


The House of Cards

by kitnkabootle, UbiquitousMixie



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: AU, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-11
Updated: 2013-07-11
Packaged: 2017-12-19 04:53:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 39,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/879685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitnkabootle/pseuds/kitnkabootle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/UbiquitousMixie/pseuds/UbiquitousMixie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Welcome to the mysteriously queer tale none too welcome for the delicate or faint of heart. This is dark and twisted story about a young woman on her quest to self-discovery. Set in the eerie world of a traveling Sideshow, come hear the tales of freaks and fables, of friends and foes! Feast your eyes on the extraordinary as you leave the ordinary outside! It's all yours, ladies and gents, if you'll be so kind as to come this way! But beware! Once you've entered, there's no easy way out. Mind your step and mind your heart as you step inside The House of Cards."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The House of Cards

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2009 for dragonwine.

A cloud of dust blew past the hem of Andy's dress, coating her shoes in a light film as it swept by. If she strained her ears hard enough, she could hear the stampede of curious townsfolk eager to feast their eyes upon the assortment of oddities and wonders of The Sachs of Spades Sideshow. As they had settled that morning on the outskirts of the new town, Andy anticipated a full house, a thought confirmed by her parents. 

"We'll be able to take on a new act after tonight," said Hattie Sachs with a toothy grin, her eyes alight with the prospects of greater income. Her husband, Gershin, dropped a stack of show bills on the rickety table. 

"We'd have to add another caravan."

"I don't see why that'd be a problem. We've all but doubled our profits taking on that spook."

Andy strained her ear, her curiosity getting the better of her. She'd been unable to muster the courage to introduce herself to Miranda the Divine.

The conversation came to an abrupt halt when Gershin noticed her outside the small window. "Girl. Come here."

Andy felt the hairs prickle at the base of her skull, her curiosity once again getting the better of her. She ran her dirtied hands over the scratchy material of her traveling clothes and stepped onto the creaky wooden stair to the lead caravan. Inside, her mother and father were in their usual positions, Hattie sitting at the out-of-tune piano, her webbed-fingers trailing across the broken ivory as she plinked a few notes for good measure and Gershin squinting down the bridge of his nose through round spectacles as he studied the print on the bills.

"Yes?" Andy asked meekly, unsure why she was often reduced to that tone under her parents' scrutiny. She had never quite fit in, that much was certain. Her mother and father had not planned her arrival and were rather disappointed when she hadn't turned up with an extra appendage or a horrible (albeit profitable) disfigurement. As a child she had made herself useful whenever her parents needed her. She had become the extra-hand, doing most of the side-jobs not handled by the others members of the show, or the jobs that no one wanted to do. But as she'd grown older and blossomed into a beautiful young woman with full lips, pale skin and raven-colored hair, her parents had found a new use for her.

She was a caller, a ticket-seller, an enticement. Dressed in beautiful gowns, hand-sewn by her mother of the finest cloth they could afford, she was a draw. She would spend the hour before the show drawing the attention of the men around with a saucy wink when their wives weren't looking and a whispered promise of the secrets inside the Sachs of Spades' sweeping velvet tents. It worked like a charm and although she was successful at doing the job she had been assigned, her parents had always been quick to offhand her as 'the girl', their 'hand' or 'the help'. Seldom had she heard the words 'my daughter' and conversely, seldom had she said the words 'my mother' or 'my father' or 'my parents'.

They were 'Hands' Hattie and Gershin 'The Bearded'. And she was Andrea Sachs 'The Ordinary'.

She was a beautiful bird locked within the gilded cage, on display for an audience of none.

"Dress is mended," Hattie said, nodding her head towards the broken chair in the corner, over which the dress was draped.

Andy quickly crossed the length of the small, dirty caravan, eager to resume her place just outside the door. She wiped her hands at the fabric at her hips before gathering the fine velvet gown between her fingers. The left shoulder seam, which had been torn by an over-eager drunken pig whose fat, grubby hands had sought entry into her bodice, left no visible reminder of the assault. She shuddered at the memory and hoped that she'd be able to avoid such an altercation tonight.

"Try not to ruin it again, girl," Gershin warned, fingering his beard. He coiled a fistful of wiry hair around a finger and tossed it back over his shoulder.

Andy choked back an angry surge of fury. For the greater part of her life, Andy struggled to reconcile the fact of her parentage. She'd looked to the heavens for guidance, for resolve, for the faintest sign that these cold-hearted, simple folk held any semblance of love for her.

She received nothing but silence and indifference.

Andy had since given up on God. She gave up on love, for that matter. No parents would allow their daughter to succumb to the ravenous appetites of men for the exchange of a fistful of dollars.

"Got a new batch of swords," Gershin added, his large hands circling the hilts of the three blades. "Take these to Dougie. He's gotta practice before tonight."

Andy frowned. Her hands were much smaller. It would only be with a stroke of luck that she'd reach Doug without impaling herself. She quickly threw the dress around her shoulders and gathered the hilts of the swords from Gershin, her fists struggling to keep them from falling.

But whatever the weight of the dangerous weaponry in her hands, it could hardly compare to that weight which had lifted off of her shoulders once she'd exited the small living space she shared with Hattie and Gershin. She liked Doug, and making a delivery to him was definitely a better trade then cleaning up after the horses. That could wait for another time. Andy wrinkled her nose at the thought and worked at balancing the swords with careful attention taken as not to sever a limb. Perhaps that was it. Perhaps she was going about it all wrong. Severing a limb would be the key to her parents' affections, as they could bill her as the 'peg-legged pirate queen from Mesopotamia.' Or, perhaps, they could do away with both legs and arms and she could be a human-living torso: 'Watch how it breathes and talks just like an actual person!'

Andrea rolled her eyes. She would keep her limbs for another day.

But just as she had reaffirmed her decision, she lost her grip on the largest sword and saw a flash of light off of its sharpest edge as it fell from her arms and crashed towards the ground. Andy jumped back from the serating swipe of the blade and lost her grip on the other two at that same moment, the three clashing together in front of her as they landed in the thick dust. Her back collided against something, or as it happened to be - someone - and she reached for whatever she could hold to keep afoot. Sadly, her efforts were in vain and she landed on the ground beside the swords in what seemed to be a shower of colourful cards. A torrent of dry dirt lifted into the air and filled her lungs as she sucked in a breath.

"I'm so, so sor--" The words fell from Andy's tongue as she realized just who she had collided with. Her eyes widened as they took in the sight of the woman sitting beside her amongst the dirt and scattered cards.

If her reputation was based in truth, Miranda the Divine would surely curse her for causing such a mishap. Andy'd likely lose her eyesight just for having widened her eyes in staring, or perhaps her ability to walk for having knocked her down. Andy prayed to no god in particular that she'd live long enough to apologize.

"You fool," Miranda spat, clamouring to her knees to begin fetching the tarot cards that littered the ground. She painstakingly picked up each card individually, blew the dirt from its face, and wiped the remainder of it on her colourful sequined shawl.

"I'm so sorry," Andy said, gathering a fistful of cards. "I didn't see you and I--"

"Don't!"

Startled, Andy jumped and dropped the cards.

"You can't touch them," Miranda hissed, her shockingly blue eyes flicking up at Andy's, filled with contempt. "You've tainted their energy." 

"I...I didn't know. I just wanted to help." 

"I don't need your help, girl." 

Andy felt the sting of the nickname like a sucker-punch to the gut. "It's Andy," she spat back. "And I said I was sorry. I didn't mean to cause any harm."

Miranda said nothing, only continued the ritualistic collecting of her cards. She'd only picked up a fraction of them and was making little progress. Andy pursed her lips, held her breath, and hastily gathered the remainder of the cards. Miranda's glare was scorching.

"You said they were tainted already, so you might as well untaint them as a group, right?"

"Do you have any idea," Miranda began, snatching the pile from Andy's hand, "how long that will take?"

"I'm. Sorry." Andy reached for the swords. "Are you going to hex me now? Can you at least wait until I've delivered these swords?"

Miranda rolled her eyes and was gone.

Andy huffed and stood, bitter resentment clouding her vision. She'd only been trying to be nice. Nice, Andy realized, was not an appropriate trait for the sideshow business. As she prepared to resume her trek to Doug's, she noticed a flash of color in the corner of her eyes. She carefully hugged the swords to her chest as she reached down to pick up the solitary card. Blowing the dirt away from the face of the small image, Andy noticed a woman bound by ropes, standing amidst a circle of eight swords. 

She shivered.

A cold feeling coursed through her veins as she stared at the card's face. Her heartbeat felt unusually loud in her ears and the noises around her became distant. But just as quickly the whole feeling ended; her body warmed and life continued around her. This was a lead she should definitely follow if she would like to finish the task at hand and move on with the day. That was, of course, to complete her daily chores while she still had eyesight or the ability to walk.

She tucked the card carefully down the front of her traveling dress and into the boned corset below. She could feel it pressed against the skin of her breast, warming at the touch. Somewhere beneath it her heart slowed to its usual cadence and she felt oddly comforted by its nearness.

It was a silly notion that an object such as a forgotten card could calm her blistering feelings of neglect and solidarity - but it did, and she couldn't explain it. What's more, she didn't want to explain it.

So lost in thought and emotion was Andy that she nearly passed Doug's caravan, her attention finally drawn to the doorway by a long, slow whistle. A young gentleman, no older than herself, sat carving a wooden doll with a rusty pen knife. A full coat of thick, dark hair covered the flesh of his face and nearly obstructed his features, though she could see the warm, hazel orbs of his eyes studying her with an unsettling scrutiny.

"Daydreaming again, Andy?"

"I guess I was," Andy replied, propping the swords against the wagon. "How are you today, Nate?"

He shrugged, his matted fingers never stilling with his knife.

Andy frowned, patted his shoulder, and stepped up to enter the caravan. She paused, watching a pair of people laugh as they painted a new banner at a table nearby, exhibiting The Amazing Wolf Boy and The Bearded Lady. She briefly wondered why Gershin had requested that the design feature both of the performers, but realized the answer as a sinking feeling overcame the pit of her belly. Promoting the two together might suggest the hint of a romance (and the potential for excessively hairy children) to townsfolk. If they approved, Gershin would no doubt force Nate and Emily, The Bearded Lady, to wed.

Inside, Doug was balancing a tall blade on his finger as he read the local newspaper that was laying open on the table before him. At the sound of Andy's feet, scuffing the dirty floor of the caravan, Doug looked up and smiled. "Well now, what a surprise!"

Andy grinned and crossed towards him, hugging him from behind as he flicked the sword into a nearby holder with careful accuracy. "I brought you those swords... they're just outside."

Doug nodded his head and kicked back the second seat in offering.

"I can't stay... there's so much to be done," Andy sighed, rubbing at her thick eyelashes.

"What's wrong, darling?" Doug asked as he noticed Andy's discomfort. He got to his feet and placed a hand on each of her shoulders, looking at the crown of her head as she lowered her gaze.

"I bumped into... Miranda..." Andy admitted, shaking her long silky hair as she finally managed to meet his gaze. "She dropped her cards everywhere and I --"

"Wait... The Divine? You banged into the Divine and you're still walking?" Doug asked in surprise as he began patting Andy's sides down. With hands back at her shoulders he turned her around and gave her a quick pat on the backside.

"HEY!" Andy swatted his hand away. "Are you getting fresh?"

"No..." Doug chuckled. It was well known that the sword swallower only had eyes for the wolf boy, but one learned to expect the unexpected when traveling with a sideshow. "I'm just looking for something..."

"What?" Andy asked as she turned back to face him, moving her rear distinctly out of view.

"A tail," Doug added and received a swat across the arm from Andy who was grinning by this point.

"Don't get Hattie's and Gershin's hopes up." Andy decided to take the offered seat after all. There were many things that needed to be done before the evening performance, but she was feeling rebellious. She draped her velvet gown across her lap and leaned back in the wooden chair with the loose leg.

"Why is everyone so afraid of her?" Andy paused, stuttering slightly. It was an odd question because to be on the receiving end of an ice-cold glare, courtesy of the diviner, was answer enough. Andy clarified, "I mean... what... what has she done?"

"What hasn't she done?" Doug asked, raising an imperious eyebrow.

Andy shivered. "You could expand on that, you know, if you wanted to."

Doug laughed. "It's better to just stay away. She has an aversion to pretty young things like you."

"Why though?"

Doug sighed at her persistence and he leaned forward. "Listen, Andy. Miranda's...different. She's not like the rest of us."

"I get that," Andy said with an exasperated sigh. "I just want to know more about her. There's something about her..."

"That's just it, Andy. She curses people. Divining is just...it's beyond what we are. We're freaks. This is just who we are. But she's just..." Doug shuddered. "She sees things that people just aren't supposed to see. Nothing good comes from knowing the future."

"But it can't be all ba-" Andy reasoned, but was cut off by Doug who looked at her more seriously than she had ever seen him do before.

"Stay away from Miranda."

"Doug, this is insane! She's been with the show for three months and no one knows anything about her!" Andy wasn't sure why she was defending Miranda, but she could feel her palms grow moist with sweat as she felt her blood pressure rising.

Doug shook his head and knelt down in front of Andy's chair, taking her hands within his own. "Look Andy. I just worry about you. You're going to get yourself into trouble and I want to make sure you know the repercussions of the road you're going down before you make those decisions."

Andy shook her head and bit back the retort that had been fresh on her tongue. She respected Doug's opinion and as much as she could argue that he might be wrong this time, he hadn't been in the past.

Doug released her hands and kissed Andy on the top of the head before getting back to his feet. "Did you carry those swords here by yourself?" he asked curiously, spying them outside of his caravan window.

Andy nodded. "Yep - I'm not all 'girl' you know."

Doug turned to face her, leaning against the wall of the rickety wagon. "But you're all klutz. You should have had Irv help you."

Andy made a visible gag at the suggestion and Doug laughed heartily. If there was one person that Andy detested more than Hattie and Gershin it was Irving, the strongman. He was a short, stout fellow with muscles of steel nestled under paddings of fat and he was dumber than a box of hair. He also had a penchant for mishandling women and Andy had seen him skulking around the gypsy's caravan in the late hours of the evening. If he'd heard the stories about Miranda the Divine, he was probably too stupid to process what that might mean for him.

Doug frowned.

"What is it?"

"Gershin approaching, four o'clock. You'd better get to the paddock before he takes the bullwhip to you."

"He wouldn't do that," Andy said, brushing back a lock of hair that had fallen into her face. "Who wants to buy tickets into the show from a human whipping post?"

"He's inventive, that one. He'll find a way to punish you without leaving visible evidence."

Andy didn't need to be reminded. She knew all too well what horrors would await her if Gershin caught her neglecting her chores. Though he'd never taken a whip to her for fear of alerting some sympathetic townie to her misfortunes, he was careful about where he inflicted pain. She bore deeply set scars that kissed her skin with the savage reminder of what came of children who did not adhere to her parents' will.

Doug, having patched several of her wounds in the past, caught up with Gershin, allowing Andy a chance to sneak away and head to care after the horses. She hurried, dirtying her shoes on a bit of mud as she hopped the fence and reached for the shovel. With perfect clarity, Andy pictured the faces of her mother and father as she slammed the shovel into the mess before her.

\---

Dusk was beginning to settle around the camp when Andy applied the finishing touches on her rouged lips. She rolled them together, allowing the blood-red coloring to cover every inch of her full mouth. She applied her horse-hair brush to her head once again, smoothing her abundance of dark locks against her shoulders. She then tapped a bit of rose water to her neck and wrists, all the while unable to cease staring at the tarot card where it lay on her dressing table.

She knew Miranda would know that the card was still in her possession. With little time remaining until sundown, Andy knew she'd have to brave the gypsy woman to return it. She cowered at the thought. One of Gershin's famous beatings sounded more appealing than having to face Miranda's wrath. 

Pondering the confrontation was doing her little good. She had very little time to stall before she had to take her place with the stack of bills and attempt to persuade the townies that the oddities of the Sachs of Spades Sideshow were not to be missed.

She donned her velvet dress, pulling it over her boned corset and smoothing it down the front and tied the lacing. After tucking the ribbon ends inside the fabric to secure them, she lifted the card from the dressing table and fitted it neatly against her flesh below. It made her skin tingle to know it was there and Andy felt a flush creeping across her cheeks below the circular stains of rouge.

With one more look in the mirror she was off on her way through the trees towards the gypsy's trailer. This wasn't their first stop for the gypsy's caravan for the sideshow had stopped close to thirty times since the day she had been added to the act, but at each camp her caravan remained away from the rest. This particular stop was not the exception that Andy had hoped as she wove through the tall forest trees that darkened the path and cast an eerie gloom over the area.

In the distance she could hear some of the performers warming up. She noted the whine of Serena the Snake Enchantress's flute as she coaxed the serpent from its slumber. She could hear the inside talker's loud voice as he warmed up his vocals like an operatic singer sliding up the scale and back down again in varying pitches.

And then she spotted it: Miranda's caravan, painted scarlet red with chips and flecks missing to reveal the grey wood beneath. There was a fire smoking outside, which meant one of two things. Either Miranda was still inside, readying for the show, or she had just snuffed out the fire and had already made her way to the tall tents on the back-end. Andy was certain, out of the two, which she preferred. The only really frightening part was her self-discovery of which one that was.

As she moved forward, her heels crunched and snapped over broken twigs and forest floor, a reminder in the quiet hollow of the wood that she was very much alone. She knew that it was unsafe to travel by oneself on the grounds of each town because it was widespread knowledge that townies took advantage of the women of traveling shows. They were easy targets, dressed in outlandish costumes with make up on their faces and often marks would seek them out for relief, knowing that the sideshow would pack up in days and would be on its way.

It was also widespread knowledge that the local constabulary would seldom side with a traveler over the good honest word of a townsperson.

Smoothing her dress down, Andy approached the caravan, noticing a candle lighting its insides through the paned window with the cracked glass in its lower corner. She swallowed back her nerves that had been worn thin and ran her hand nervously through her silken mane, draping the dark curls over one shoulder. Her boots sounded overly loud as she stepped up onto the caravan stair and she hesitated before lifting her hand to rap at the dark grey door. To her surprise, just as she let her knuckles fall towards it, the door swung open on its rusted hinges to reveal Miranda the Divine - the very woman she had come to see and the very last person, at this exact moment, that she wished to see. 

Miranda looked down the ridge of her thin nose, her oval lips pursed in detest as her enchanting eyes narrowed at the interruption.

Andy swallowed, her eyes widening as she let forth a series of stutters that did not amount to a coherent sentence. 

Miranda's gaze never faltered as she extended a clean white hand and flicked her pristine fingers toward her wrist. "The card."

Andy looked around her, hesitant to sneak a hand into her bodice amidst the open arrangement of the forest. She glanced wearily at Miranda's face, her eyes pleading for some semblance of mercy. 

Miranda jerked her head and stepped aside, allowing Andy entry. She crossed the short width of the caravan, her light step causing a loose board to creek loudly. Andy jumped, taking a tremulous step into the wagon. 

Growing up within the curious recesses of a sideshow taught Andy not to stare, but here, within the confines of Miranda the Divine's odd room, she couldn't help but cast her eager eyes to every corner.

Noting that Miranda's back was to her, she took leave of her senses and allowed her eyes to scan over the contents of a large bookshelf fixed upon the wall beside her. Long, shimmering shawls covered every surface, which were adorned with candles, books, incense, crystals, pendulums, and an odd assortment of papers. Curtains covered the walls from floor to ceiling and in the center of the room, on a round table, sat the deck of tarot cards. 

"Were you able to, uh, untaint the cards?"

"I cleansed them, yes, save for the card you stole. I will be unable to use this particular deck tonight."

Andy's face burned. "I'm terribly sorry..."

"Cleansing is a lengthy process. It requires setting the cards in direct sunlight, burning sweetgrass, and wrapping it in a pure, light linen."

Andy noticed the materials on the table and felt the guilt boil within her stomach. "Do you have a spare deck?"

Miranda spun on her heel, staring Andy down with a glare that pointed out the obvious idiocy of her question. "The Eight of Swords, if you please."

"How did you...oh. Right." Andy laughed nervously. "I didn't mean to steal it," she said, fishing the card from her breast. Her skin felt cold at the loss. She passed her thumb over the familiar face of the card before setting it on the table. "I..." She swallowed. "I'm sorry." 

Miranda tilted her head to the side, pursing her lips as her eyes passed over the length of her form. Andy felt naked. "The Eight of Swords," Miranda began, stepping closer to Andy, her eyes alight with something that the younger woman could not read, "symbolizes strong confinement. This card chooses those who are trapped and are unwilling to take the measures to free themselves." 

Andy felt as thought she were sitting on a block of ice. "I...I didn't choose that card though. I found it." 

"I did not say that you had chosen it. It chose you." 

"Oh... uhh... right," Andy stuttered, still unsure how exactly it was that the card found her when it was merely accidentally left behind. She didn't dare say as much, however, and agreed silently with the nod of her head.

Miranda cast her eyes down at the card and shifted her gaze back at Andy. Her irises were both piercing and captivating, daring Andy to look away as she spoke. "We are never without escape, Andrea..."

Andy shivered. Miranda had never yet addressed her directly, and it was the first time in her entire existence that anyone had called her by her given name. No one but Hattie and Gershin even knew it, and they called her 'girl' or 'Andy' just as the others did.

"Just because an opportunity is not apparent," here Miranda flicked her wrist and a worn tarot card appeared between two slender fingers, "does not mean that it is not present."

Miranda stepped closer and Andy strained to keep her lips from dropping open. She was enthralled and spellbound by the woman before her, from the silver of her hair to the curve of her elegant nose. She felt invaded to the very core of her being and filled with an unfamiliar feeling that burned down her stomach towards the apex of her thighs.

The air stilled between them and Andy watched as the gypsy languidly slid the thin ridge of the card down the length of her collar and into the ledge of her corset, filling the void the previous card had left. At the proximity Andy could see into the depths of Miranda's eyes. She could see the hues and shadows of light and dark coexisting in her irises to form a color so distinct that it could never be recreated. And then as they silently exchanged swallows of atmosphere in the space between them, Miranda's soft oval lips parted and she whispered, "Go."

Andy jumped at the sound, her body trembling wildly out of her own control as she spun on her heel, pushed open the door and flew down the caravan steps. She sucked mouthfuls of dust into her lungs as her feet pounded against the forest floor, carrying her back to the sideshow, back to the other performers and back to a sanctuary of familiarity.

Only when she reached her post below the swollen banners of the sideshow entrance did she reach unsteady fingers into her corset to retrieve the new card. On its surface was the number seven written in roman numerals above a proud figure seated on the throne of a golden chariot. Andy ran her fingers across the figure, realizing in that moment that opportunity was written in non-existent braille across its face.

Andy was rendered momentarily dumb. She stared at the card, at the regal figure upon the chariot. The card was warm in her hands and for the first time in her short life, she began to believe that there may be something to this gypsy fortune telling. She'd always taken it for a gaff, much like the Fiji mermaid that Gershin brought out on nights when the townies were gullible and willing to empty their pockets for the chance to witness firsthand the grotesque, mythical creatures.

Andy could feel the card infused with an energy all of its own. She licked her dry lips as she tucked it back into her corset.

Drawn to the card as she felt, Andy knew that being beaten for neglecting her job would not be worth the further inspection of the image. She could see Gershin at the entrance of the tent, dressed in his best violet, crushed-velvet suit, admitting the early-comers after they'd dropped their money into the wooden box propped before him. She could hear the clink of the ding as it hit the bottom of the container, hoping that it would not be long before the sounds of coins were muffled. A successful night meant that Andy would rest without bruises.

It was showtime. Readjusting the front of her dress, she titled her breasts out at an uncomfortable angle and donned her greatest fake smile. It was time to begin her bally.

"Come one, come all!" Andy shouted above the burgeoning crowd. She could feel the curious leers cast her way. "Feast your eyes upon the oddities that you'll see nowhere but here, the Sachs of Spades Sideshow! Meet The Bearded Lady and The Wolf Boy! Stretch your mind to allow in the never-before-seen Sword Swallower and Strongman, displaying feats the likes of which you've never before seen! Fix your eyes upon The Tattooed Man and the Contortionist Girl! If you dare, allow the Snake Enchantress to charm even YOU out of your seat! And for the truly brave, face Miranda the Divine! Step right up, folks! We guarantee a show you've never seen, and never will see again! Face your fears! This is the real deal, folks! Everything you're about to see is 100% authentic, as real as you or I! If you're not convinced that real freaks walk among us, we promise your money back!"

Andy felt her voice grow hoarse but she pressed on, her heard thudding as the crowd began to swell.

Andy was famous for her ability to clean the midway at almost every show, especially when the crowd's percentage dipped in favour of the male population. With a shake and shimmy of her favourable assets, she would draw the wandering eyes and once she'd captured the attention, her parade of words would flow effortlessly in their ability to secure the tip.

She lifted her hand and motioned towards the archway under the large banners, painted with the vivid portrayals of the entertainers inside. "Don't miss out on this once in a lifetime opportunity! See with your very own eyes the horrors of humanity, here and on display for your utmost enjoyment. Don't regret a missed chance to open your mind to the wonders of the world, all at your fingertips right this way."

The hordes of rubes gathered for the night's admission, paid the extra fare to see the sideshow and eagerly stepped inside the large purple tent. Andy watched as the last ones disappeared and she followed the group inside, prepared for another night of watching some of her closest friends on display. Something about the whole spectacle always felt wrong, but she was constantly reminded by those around her that it was a good profession. They wouldn't go as far as to say an 'honest' one because the sideshow business was furthest from. Whatever they could do to turn a profit - they did. If a gent fancied a go with the contortionist, they might find a chance awaited them if they stayed around for the blow-off afterwards.

Andy sighed softly and patted her chest, as if to remind herself that the card - and conversely her courage - was still there. Then with another fake smile and eyes without a trace of indifference, she closed the tent flap behind her and went to work.

\---

The crowd gave another uproarious surge of applause as Doug removed a fat sword from his throat. Beside him, Lily, the contortionist, ambled around on her hands while her legs were twisted behind her head. The remainder of the performers took their finals bows and displayed a final feat: Irv lifted Nigel, The Painted Man, above his head. Serena soothed her snake once more from her basket. Emily fingered her beard and Nate gave a hearty, unbelievable howl. Miranda the Divine simply crossed her arms across her chest and stared down the crowd, as if hoping to catch the eye of any fool with the gall to lock eyes with the devil herself.

At the side of the stage, Andy found herself to be that fool. Try as she might she found that she was unable to take her eyes away from Miranda. The card of The Chariot pulsed against her quickly beating heart, heating her to her core. When Miranda's eyes flicked her way, she felt another unfamiliar, aching twinge between her legs.

Andy made her way to the back of the tent, tying up the flaps as Gershin made his closing remarks to the crowd, promising new, unseen sights in the nights to follow. With a wave of relief, Andy realized that tonight would not encompass the blow-off. She could relax.

She forced her most lascivious smiles, her most lust-filled glances, and her sexiest poses. She promised each and every rube that they may have the chance to see more of her if they chose to return. She dutifully held her position until the final townie had disappeared from her sight. Peering into the tent, Andy noted that nearly everyone had gone except for Irv, who cleared the remaining bills off the dusty ground. She quickly hurried away, not wanting to be seen.

Their camp grounds were quiet and under the light of the moon, Andy felt some faint hint of peace. The pull of the silver orb hanging in the midnight sky above her eased the tension from her shoulders. She paid no mind to the fact that she was entering the thick folds of the forest, where light was obstructed, and where shadows crept behind each corner.

It wasn't until she heard the sounds of stilted talking up ahead and unfamiliar voices that Andrea realized she had arrived in the area around Miranda's caravan. Like some type of gravitational pull she had been led back unwittingly to the place of before. Her fingers found the edge of the card buried in her breast and she looked to it for reassurance as the voices grew louder.

As much as it was none of her business, Andy couldn't help but be curious as to what Miranda would be doing at this time of night, alone in the woods - that would involve several other voices. She moved closer. Finding a large oak tree to use in hiding, Andy placed her palms against the wood and leaned so that she had a clearer vantage of the caravan ahead.

The fire crackled in the makeshift pit and from where she stood, Andy could see three teenage males looming at either sides of it. The largest male was walking forward and it wasn't until he stepped to the side that she saw Miranda the Divine, standing in the center.

Something flashed in one of the young men's hands and Andy's heart clenched when she realized that it could be a knife or other weapon. But when he held it out to Miranda, she saw that it was merely a coin.

"How's about it, gypsy?" the male rasped as he stepped closer to his target.

Miranda appeared disinterested as she stepped backwards to avoid him. "You're wasting your time." 

Andy saw the other young man step behind Miranda before she moved, and she watched as the diviner backed right into his chest as his friend neared her front. The man's hand reached out and plucked up the hem of Miranda's long skirt and raised it. "Don't play hard to get, gypsy. You're not worth more than this here shiny dollar."

Before she knew what she was doing, Andy moved from her hiding place and stepped into the light of the fire. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

She could feel her palms sweating as she flexed her fingers, catching the material of her gown to secure her resolve. The male halted his advancements on Miranda and all four heads swivelled in Andy's direction.

"Andrea, leave," Miranda commanded, though Andy made no move to obey.

Two of the three males skulked towards her. "And why would we do that?" one of the males sneered, eyeing her up an down in a way that made her skin crawl.

She could feel her anger building but she remained calm. Then, with a belittling smile and a bored tone, she replied, "Because the last man that approached Miranda the Divine in an ungentlemanly way was never really the same again."

The tallest male laughed, though the others looked slightly nervous. "Oh yeah and why's that, girly?" he asked as he stepped closer and raked his eyes up her body.

Andy shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest. "Well I think he sure did miss the part of his anatomy that the curse broke off."

As if on perfect cue at the end of her pointed sentence, all three faces of the men before her grew stark pale.

"Take the chance if you don't believe me," Andy said, motioning towards Miranda. The diviner's face was drawn in a wary glare. "But let me tell you, any part of her body that you touch in a less than friendly way will leave you cursed and as manly as a baby."

"W-what proof do you have?" asked the youngest. The color was completely gone from his face, and Andy could tell that he was her mark.

"You know Serena, the snake girl?"

The young man nodded.

"Well, she used to be a he, but Miranda saw to it that he'd never be able to call himself a man, ever again. Why d'you think he spends his life at a freak show, making snakes come out of baskets? That's the only rise he'll ever get again."

"Let's get outta here," he said, squirming uncomfortably as if to ascertain whether or not he was still fully equipped. "It's not worth it. She's just a crazy old hag."

"I would heed her warnings, if I were you," Miranda finally whispered. "Though," she said, giving the oldest male a once over, "you'd make quite the pretty little thing for Irving to play with. He's always looking for ripe, untouched meat."

At that, two of the young men scampered off, one of them stumbling on the brush of the forest ground. The oldest stared between the two with a mixture of fear and anger staining his features. "You two are crazy."

"You'll be the crazy one if you stay," Miranda hissed, lifting her hand to touch his cheek. He jumped and ran.

Andy couldn't contain her laughter. "Suckers."

Miranda stared at Andy as she bent to pick up the shawl that had dropped in the scuffle. "I didn't need your help."

Andy placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head, a cocky grin spreading across her face. "Apparently you did."

"I could have handled them on my own."

Andy frowned and stepped closer, her breath catching in her chest as she neared. The firelight cast dancing amber hues across her face and her eyes shone like the moon above her. "Why do you do that?" Andy asked softly. "I'm just trying to be your friend."

Whatever Miranda had expected Andy to say, it hadn't been that. She started and squared her shoulders. "I am not looking for friends."

Andy didn't hesitate. "Then what are you looking for?"

Miranda's eyes flicked towards her in surprise and remained there as the depths of Andy's warm gaze held tight to Miranda's arctic one. Then, breaking the focus was unsurprisingly Miranda, who swiveled her eyes in dis-amusement before turning and disappearing into the rustic caravan.

Andy held tight to the shawl that remained in her hands and brushed her fingers over the beads. It was beautiful and fragile, quite like its owner she surmised, although Miranda's fragility was hidden far below the surface. There had to be something more to her than met the eye. It was apparent in every move that she made and every sentence she strung. There had to be more to the mysterious gypsy and Andy was determined to find out the hidden secrets behind the Divine.

She gathered the shawl into a neat fold in her hands and carried it up the caravan stairs, slowly pushing forward on the slightly ajar door. To her surprise it didn't creek or squeal as she had expected it to and silently gave way, allowing her to step just inside.

Miranda stood a little ways away with her back to Andy, lit only by the flickering of three small candles spread out on various surfaces. She was running a wet kerchief down the curve of her neck, her head canted slightly to the side as she cleaned away the dust and grime of the day as well as the grease and paint of the night. Andrea watched her carefully, transfixed into silence as she watched Miranda's fingers gently cleansing her pale skin until the kerchief came away colorless.

It seemed like hours had passed when Miranda's annoyed tone clipped the air. "Yes?"

Andy shook slightly. "I...well, you left this. I didn't want you to take me for a thief."

"You can leave it on the table."

Andy placed it gently beside the deck of cards. "What is all of this stuff for, anyway?" Andy asked, referring to the various odds and ends scattered about.

Miranda rinsed the kerchief, wrung it out, and draped it beside the basin. "It's not stuff."

Andy flushed. "I didn't mean..."

Miranda rolled her eyes. "You think this is all a joke, don't you? That fortune telling is a game left to my imagination, that predictions are mere coincidences? You think I'm another gaff?"

The words in Andy's mouth were caught in her throat. She stared helplessly at Miranda.

"You're a fool just like the rest of them."

"I am not!" Hot, angry tears pricked at her eyes. "That's not fair of you to say when you don't know me at all!"

"I know you better than you think, Andrea."

"Obviously you don't. If you did, you'd see that I'm a product of this," Andy said, her arms gesturing to the caravan around her. "I grew up with this. My whole life has been sheltered. The only education I got came from Clara in the cook house. I know nothing of the world out there...and I know nothing of your world. I'm trying to understand."

"You've made that clear." 

Andy sighed and slumped, uninvited, into a chair. "You think I'm a kid." 

Miranda was silent for a moment. "Seeing as how you've invited yourself to stay, would you like some tea?"

Andy nodded, her lips quirking into a small smile. "Yeah... I'd like that. Please."

Miranda exited the caravan and returned moment later with the same tea pot that had been perched over the fire during the altercation. She carried it carefully through a beaded curtain and disappeared behind it as she prepared the beverage Andy had practically forced from her.

Andy's eyes swept across the caravan's interior, amazed at the items she saw propped on shelves and the personal effects that decorated its walls and surfaces. Her attention was drawn to the book shelf, where she strummed a finger across the leather spines, selecting one at random. It had been pulled out from the others with a thick leather strap marking one of its old pages. It wasn't English she could tell as she flipped through it, scanning the pages for photographs or diagrams to give a clue as to what type of book it was. As her fingers traveled through the pages, something slipped loose from its base and fluttered slowly to the floor. Andy bent down to retrieve it and went to put it back in the book when she got a better look at its face.

It was a bill, boasting 'Vellegio's Amazing Freakshow!" with smaller type below claiming that it had 'The Best Freaks in the World!". Andy rolled her eyes. She had seen the very same words written on countless other freakshow bills before, the Sachs of Spades included. It wasn't exactly a new business idea.

Soon her eyes left the wording and unfocused on the sidebar drawings to fix instead on the large center photograph. It was a set of conjoined twins with identical faces looking at the camera with a glare so cold it sent a shiver down her spine. She had definitely seen that look before. The photo was in color print, slightly aged with a strong yellow tint but it did not obstruct the fact that both girls had blazing red hair and piercing blue eyes.

Written below the photograph in black type were the words: Cassidia and Carolina - SIAMESE twins joined at the hip! Feast your eyes on the four armed, four legged beast if you dare!"

Andy squinted at the bill, turning it over in her hand but she jumped when she heard the rustle of the beads and saw Miranda step into the room. She froze, her hands still on the bill and looked at Miranda nervously. "I'm sorry, I was just... uhh having a look at your books. You've got a really nice collection," Andy's voice trailed off as she realized that Miranda wasn't looking at her.

Her eyes were trained on the bill in Andy's hand and a look of horror had frozen her features. But the horror quickly vanished and when Miranda looked back at Andy, the blue irises were so dark that they appeared cobalt black, burning like an obsidian sea. She was breathing harshly and her nose narrowed, the nostrils flaring at its base.

"Get out," she hissed.

The chink of glasses hit the table, followed immediately by Miranda's fingers quickly snatching the bill away.

"Miranda, I--"

"OUT!" Miranda's teeth were bared, as if she were preparing to strike.

"I don't even know what that is! What's wrong?"

"I owe you no explanation. I am not your friend. I am not your mo--" Miranda caught herself. Andy's eyes grew wide with knowledge, her heart plummeting into the pit of her stomach. They were Miranda's daughters.

Miranda's knuckles tightened around the paper. "Leave me now."

The finality of the words forced Andy's feet into motion. She stumbled to reach the door and the freedom of the dark forest. She stared back at the caravan, unblinking as she watched Miranda snatch the curtains closed. She spared not a glance for Andy.

Andy angrily kicked at the dirt, frustrated tears staining her painted cheeks. Just when it seemed like she was starting to get through to Miranda...

But she hadn't really, had she? Andy had been the one to open up. Andy had been the one to reach out. Andy had been the one to come to her rescue. Miranda had done nothing but administer vague advice.

Miranda has also slipped the card into the corset and subsequently set Andy on fire.

While Andy led a sheltered, constrained life, she was not a stranger to certain...feelings. The others joked about Andy's purity and her innocence, but she was not the prudish child that they imagined her to be. She'd picked up a great deal of knowledge living with such an uninhibited bunch of people and while she never contributed to the conversations, she was all ears, soaking in every filthy word. She'd shared physical intimacies with no one.

No one but herself.

Andy crept quietly into the caravan that she shared with her parents, holding her breath as she passed to the furthermost corner that was allotted as her personal living space. She wrenched the curtain tightly shut and, after securing the ties around the hook, pulled the second curtain closed. Andy longed for a day when she'd have the freedom to live away from her parents, away from this life. With a sinking feeling, she considered the fact that those hopes may never come to fruition.

But tonight was not for pondering her future.

She pulled the tarot card from her dress, staring at its image for several seconds before placing it on her pillow. She freed herself of the velvet dress and deftly loosened the constricting laces of the corset. Within several minutes she was clad only in her shift. She made quick work of cleansing her face of the beautiful painted mask and when she was wiped bare, she felt like herself again.

Andy hopped into her tiny bed, pulling the patchwork quilt closely around her body. She picked up the card and traced her finger over the outline of the person riding the chariot. The card was hot between her fingers.

Her free arm stole beneath the blanket and she hitched up the hem of her shift. She looked around her, as if verifying that the shadows around her were keeping to themselves, and slipped her hand within her bloomers. The work of her fingers lasted but moments: the sticky wetness gave little friction, allowing her fingers to fumble freely where she needed it the most. When her body coiled and released like a spring, spasms wracking her body, the gypsy's face was present behind her eyelids.

\---

As dawn broke over the camp of caravans belonging to the Sachs of Spades Sideshow, Andy made her way across the quiet lot. Sideshow people, as a rule, were night walkers. Often up until the earliest hours in the morning, they would retire for solid sleep hours towards the early afternoon and wake in time to prepare for several hours before the evening performances.

Today, she found herself wandering the area as her mind drifted to the previous night. She tried to decipher Miranda's actions. She had seemed almost fine with their conversation at the beginning. She hadn't been the most welcoming hostess, but she had after all offered tea and it was only when Miranda had seen her with that stupid bill that she had exiled her from the premises.

Andy lifted her fingers to her lips and bit down into the tender flesh. That bill. The faces on the bill. They had been so familiar. The expression, she'd seen so many times before. Four blue eyes, two wicked glares, one mirror image.

Just at that moment she spotted a flash of silver crossing near the cook house. She dropped her fingers from her mouth and bunched the sides of her skirt in her hands, lifting the hems away from her boots as she dashed towards the older woman.

When Miranda spotted her, she turned a corner behind the donnikers and disappeared completely from view. Andy skidded to a halt, scanning the area near the edge of the forest and let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.

Absolute silence greeted her. She couldn't evade her forever.

Sighing softly Andy kicked the dirt with the toe of her boot and walked towards the horse ring. Cleaning up after the animals seemed a fat lot better than finding a place to hunker down and pout until the others awoke.

As she dug the shovel into the waste she felt the card at her breast scrape the skin beneath her corset. She cursed the card, cursed the sideshow and cursed the day a woman named Miranda the Divine had walked into her life.

\---

Andy had nearly completed her work around the paddock by mid-morning. She couldn't wait until she was able to move on to the next chore. The stench had her stomach aching to spend its contents and she was covered in filth. She couldn't argue with the work itself. The horses were good company. There were no ominous premonitions or insults or jeers. There was simply quiet peace and enough work to keep her distracted from her thoughts. As she poured fresh water into the trough, Lily hopped on the fence and smiled down at her. Andy looked over her shoulder apprehensively.

"No worries. Bosses are still gone. Thought I'd say hi."

"Hi." Andy all but dropped the bucket on the ground. 

"Well, aren't we a grouch today? Whatsa matter?"

"Just one of those days I guess."

"Aah," Lily nodded. "Monthlies?"

"No...just...a lot on my mind, I suppose."

Andy reached for the second full bucket, her back aching as she lifted its heavy weight. Careful not to slosh water over the sides and splash her feet, she tipped it into the trough. She glanced longingly at where Lily sat, caught for a moment by a white-hot surge of jealousy and contempt. With over two dozen people included in the Sideshow, Andy could never accept that she was the only one relegated to the menial, back-breaking tasks when so many others had nothing to do but twist into a pretzel. She understood it: she knew that had it been she that was parading around for the curious, and often disgusted eyes, she'd have earned the right to have mornings free from chores.

"I heard you bumped into the witch yesterday."

Andy could feel her cheeks grow warm.

"Dougie told me. And I gotta tell you, love, you'd better not get too close."

"So I've heard." Andy grabbed the empty bucket and stalked off to deposit them by the bags of feed.

"We're just worried about you," Lily called, catching up. "She's not right, that one."

"I've heard that too. What's it matter who I'm friends with?"

"Wait, you're friends? Doug didn't say anything about that."

"That's because it's no one's business but mine and hers."

Lily raised an eyebrow, the look of bewilderment striking her dumb. "You're a dead woman."

"I am not. She doesn't even like me anyway, so don't worry. Little Andy is still yours and Doug's and Nate's play thing. She won't go getting herself mixed in with a bad crowd."

"Andy--"

Andy held up a hand. "No. I don't want to hear it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to clean up and get into town."

Lily let out an audible sigh and popped her shoulder with a crack, flexing her elbow back upon herself as she walked away.

Andy didn't watch her go.

\---

Andy grunted as she pushed the wooden barrow along the dry road into the town's center. It was yet another joy of being the lot's grunt girl. She was responsible for attaining food for the cookhouse from the local merchants, and doing so on a meager coin purse. Gershin's routine inspections on her 'pull' were the worst part of the trip for if she had returned with what he thought was too little produce for the coin she had been given, he would accuse her of pocketing the extra and beat her until she confessed.

The main problem of that scenario was that she hadn't in fact ever stolen anything from the kitty, and that her confession was merely a way of getting him to stop. Her punishment for thieving was often a week's worth of even more gruelling tasks than she already completed.

But Andy realized that complaining about her current situation, even to herself, was useless. There was no point worrying about things beyond her control. There were things to be thankful for. She had water, food and shelter, and a job that kept her off the streets like so many faceless women she had seen on the outskirts of the travel circuit.

Andy wheeled the barrow into the middle of the small market and she watched as the eyes turned her way, spying her and whispering to one another as they ascertained that she was with the 'freakshow'. Some no doubt wondered what oddity she featured, some wondered if she was there to cause trouble, and some just seemed completely indifferent to her.

Today there were a few more whispers than usual, but Andy paid them no mind as she moved to the vegetable barrow and leaned against the thick wooden stall. The man behind the counter wiped his dirty hands on his even dirtier apron and grunted, "What will yer be havin?"

Andy pointed to the various vegetables that she wanted and the man began totaling the figures on his fingers.

"Two dollars for the lot," he decided, patting the counter with his calloused hands.

Andy opened her outside coin purse. It was one of three she carried, the other two being withheld purposefully. It was all part of the trick and all part of the trade. Laying 1 dollar on the table, Andy turned her large brown eyes on the man. "Oh... I... I didn't think it would be so much sir."

The man scratched his balding scalp and shrugged his shoulders. "That's the price," he confirmed, kinking his fingers as he extended his hand.

Using tactic number two, Andy lowered her lashes to half-mast as she leaned further forward. She inverted her shoulders, propping the swollen tops of her breasts so that they spilled outwards in her gown offering a feast for the coster's eyes.

Pouting her lips, Andy knit her brows together innocently. "But sir... surely you could do right by a poor traveling girl."

The man's eyes remained fixed on her chest and Andy watched his fingers clench at the fabric of his trousers. In her mind she heard the victory bell ring. She had found the weakness.

The man nodded slowly and went about gathering the items she had requested. A victorious smile spread wide across Andy's face and she waited patiently for the man to finish. As she did so she pricked her ears to a conversation happening one stall over at the butcher's.

"I ain't going to that freakshow," a man was saying, sucking his teeth. "Heard it ain't more than--" 

A group of people passed and Andy pursed her lips. She found it helpful to overhear these conversations for the sake of improving her bally and scoring return customers as well as the weary folk who were willing to be swayed. She thanked the merchant, her eyelashes fluttering several beats faster than normal, and flashed a smile. He shifted, grinned, and nodded. 

With a grunt of effort, Andy rolled the barrow to the cart adjoining the butcher's that was selling various grains. There was, thankfully, a queue, so Andy used the free moment to steady her ears on the conversation.

"I tol' yer, I ain't going, not when there's a show up the road with real freaks."

Andy's eyes widened.

"These freaks are real," another man was saying. "An' I heard there was going to be another special show afterwards. A show for the gents. No way I'm missing that!"

"That's all good for you," said the first man. "Jus' a town over is an act with a pair o' twins attached at the hip. What's they called? Siamese?"

Andy could feel the dust prickling her enlarged eyes. The man running the grain cart was trying to get her attention.

"You seen 'em?"

"Well, not the show...but I seen the twins. Flaming red hair they had. Even hair like that's from the devil."

Andy stopped listening and placed her order for rice, beans, and potatoes. As the man gathered her requested items, Andy rolled the information over in her mind. Why Hattie and Gershin had settled into a town right next to another sideshow act was beginning to make sense. Remembering Hattie's words of hiring another artist, Andy's heartbeat quickened. And Hattie and Gershin had both left the caravan early that morning, no doubt to get to the other sideshow with enough time spared for enticing a performer with better wages and better conditions.

What if...?

She'd never completed her shopping so quickly. By the time she made it back to her camp, her back was screaming in pain and her feet were aching. She deposited the barrow by the cookhouse and looked around. Had they not come back yet?

And then she spotted them. Near one of the more spacious caravans down the line, Hattie and Gershin stood amidst a small group of the others, surrounding whoever was with them. She casually began to walk closer, her heart pounding harder and faster than ever.

As if obeying her will, the crowd parted and her heart sank to the dust.

Andy had never been the type of woman to allow herself to feel hope. She had precious little to hope for, really, and never deluded herself into thinking that things could go her way. She had no way: she had only what she was given, and that was this life of backbreaking work and exhibiting herself for money.

For reasons unknown, she allowed herself to hope that miraculously, the twins would be at the center of the crowded circle. She allowed herself to hope that Miranda could be reunited with them. She allowed herself to hope, for one solitary moment, that she could see Miranda smile.

Hattie and Gershin did not hire the twins to work for them. Instead, a woman whose magnificent bulk forced her to walk with a sturdy wooden cane stood beside them, the expression on her face expressing extreme discomfort. Despite her sore disappointment at the woman not being the twins, she couldn't help but feel sorry for her. Taken from one sideshow to another to be put on display...

Andy turned around and kicked a rock in front of her. What was she supposed to do? Her intuition pressed at her from every side, urging her to see for herself whether these twins were THE twins.

But what if they were? She'd have to tell Miranda, if Miranda didn't already know, and what was the most likely outcome? Miranda would do everything in her power to get them back. Andy knew it was a futile effort. Hattie and Gershin had no doubt attempted to secure the conjoined twins for their act and were obviously denied. If she knew her parents at all, she knew that their aim was to exhibit beautiful freaks, to show the world that beauty--even marred by life's cruel tricks of fate--truly existed. In their eyes, beautiful freaks would pull in more revenue.

If Miranda knew that she had no chance of bringing the twins to the sideshow, she would leave.

The very fact of it caused a painful constriction in Andy's chest. She could not understand the root of this pain--she only knew that she wanted Miranda close to her. But she'd never forgive herself if she didn't tell her. If it meant seeing Miranda happy, she would give her up.

Andy felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see Nigel smiling back at her. "Hello, Six".

Andy smiled softly. She had earned the nickname several years back when the Ten-in-One show had lost one of its performers. The lost performer had been the 6th up during the evening performances - a living torso, without arms or legs. She'd been a real draw to the show and Hattie and Gershin had fawned all over her. The problem was, one of the local townies fawned all over her as well - and the show ended up one torso short.

Andy had naturally been the one to fill in last minute, and the gaff had been that they had positioned her on a box that could secretly accommodate her legs below. Meanwhile, her arms had been carefully secured down into the sides of her corset. It seemed like the perfect trick, and once she was in costume and set up properly within the tent - she looked like a dead ringer for the lost performer.

She'd been the show saver for the night, and Nigel had called her 'The Sixth' which was shortened to "Six". However, she never did perform again after the second town, when one curious onlooker had tried to push her from the box. She had toppled over, bringing the box with her and incidentally revealing her legs as she wriggled to right herself. The whole night had been a disaster that everyone tried to forget. Miraculously though, the nickname stuck.

"Hey..." Andy sighed, dragging her fingers through her thick, dark mane.

Nigel tsked under his breath and winded a tattooed arm around her shoulder. "Why do you look like you're imitating Irv and carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders?"

Andy shrugged but didn't respond. She was nothing like Irv! The nerve of Nigel...

"No? Well then... must've been a bad tarot reading."

Andy froze, her eyes flashing to Nigel in response. Unsurprisingly, her true thoughts were given away in a second and she bit her lip as the blush crept across her skin.

Nigel merely made a silent 'oh' with his lips before continuing, "You know - she isn't all that bad." She could feel a slight squeeze from the older male as he guided her across the camp ground towards the cook house where the afternoon meal was being served.

"No one ever is. We are the sum of our parts. We are what people make us." Andy watched Nigel as he sat down at one of the outdoor tables with a plate of asparagus and other various vegetables that remained unrecognizable in their current state. 

"Why do they call it a freak show?" Nigel asked softly as he plunged his fork into the squeaking green mush.

Andy sighed and lifted her fork to do the same. "Because, you're all different?"

Nigel pulled the fork from his mouth and swallowed the contents before shaking the tined instrument in the air between them. "No, Andy. Because people think that we're different."

Andy nodded, his words sinking heavily into her. Nigel had always been the one to make sense of the world and allot a certain wisdom and perspective that she lacked. Emotion swelled in her throat. Nigel, dear, sweet Nigel, who was like a father to her, was right.

This world made Miranda who she was. This world separated her from her children. Andy had a choice: to step out of that world or hide within it. She'd surely be no better than those who sold her twins if she kept her mouth shut and didn't allow Miranda the chance to get them back.

She thought of the card tucked in her corset, pressed against her heart with a pulse of its own. She thought of the stoic person atop the chariot, leading his way through the world. Perhaps that's what Miranda intended all along: to make Andy see that she had the ability to move forward.

She would do it.

With a fortifying bite of her lunch and a smile from Nigel, Andy decided that she would risk her neck for Miranda's sake. She'd show Miranda that she and Miranda were the same -- two lost women looking for something more.

\---

Andy's gut seized unpleasantly as a surge of guilt coursed through her, settling like a stone at the pit of her stomach. Her bally was off, she knew, for their audience was less than half of what it had been the previous night. Gershin would blame her, no doubt, but Andy continued forth with a sort of reckless abandon. As soon as the curtain was closed, Andy would leave. As she called out the attractions of the sideshow, she caught a bright glint of gold coming from the edge of the forest. She spared a glance and watched as Miranda, shawl tightly wound about her shoulders, hurried to the tent. She seemed agitated. Andy hoped for a moment that she'd catch Miranda's eye but the woman's vision was focused straight ahead.

She sighed.

Andy attracted a few extra rubes with a generous shake of her assets and a few winks, promising an enticing after show that they wouldn't want to miss. Andy shuddered at the thought of the blow off that would take place immediately following the show.

She was risking everything by attempting to leave. She had no way of knowing how far away the other town was and had no idea if she'd encounter trouble along the way.

It wasn't until she was securing the flaps of the tent that she decided against making the trek by foot. She would take Patricia, her favourite of the horses, and push her luck. She saddled the horse with swiftness and took off.

Under the cover of darkness and guided by the light of the moon, Andy made her way down the stretch of dirt road that led to the neighbouring town. She was spurred on by her intense, burning need to see for herself if the act she had seen on the bill in Miranda's caravan was the same as the one playing only a few miles away.

Of course, leaving the camp grounds was strictly prohibited and if discovered she would receive a fierce lashing from Gershin. But somehow, it was worth it. If the Siamese twins were indeed the same as she had seen the night before, the ones that Miranda had reacted so fiercely to, then it would all be worth it. She had to know.

By the time she reached the grounds of the freak show, Andy was drawing breath with greater effort. Her body screamed for relief after pushing the horse as hard as she could go. Andy mentally noted that she would give Patricia extra carrots and sugar cubes the following day. Sliding off the horse, she approached the entrance and was dismayed to see that the tent flaps were sealed shut, the only hint of a show having occurred that night being the colored bills littering the floor.

Tears of exhaustion and failure welled up in her eyes as she scanned the area. She was disappointed in herself. What was worse, she was now no further then when she had started and all she had to look forward to was a long journey back to the caravan and hope that Gershin and Hattie hadn't noticed her absence.

Sighing softly, Andy leaned over and picked up one of the discarded bills, dusting it off to get a better look. Suddenly the color drained from her face as the blood in her veins rushed straight to her heart as it sped to epic proportions. There, looking back at her from the slightly crinkled sheet, were the twins -- the very same twins that she had looked at in Miranda's caravan. They were older now, Andy noted, having stared at what appeared to be seven or eight years olds previously. They were both young women now and appeared to be in their teens. 

Andy frowned as she saw that both girls were dressed in matching corsets, sewn together at the midsection to accommodate their conjoined skin. Exploited already... Andy sighed and shook her head. The girls were wearing grease paint on their faces and their auburn locks were curled around their pale faces. Their expressions were identical scowls - something that hadn't changed between the photographs even over the span of time that had passed since.

Andy could feel her fingers trembling as she tucked the bill into the patched pocket of her gown.

Without another thought, Andy quickly mounted the horse and tucked in her heels to force Patricia into a run. She ignored the wind blowing her hair amiss and the dust that kicked up amongst her dress. She had only one thought in mind.

She had to show Miranda.

\---

As Andy tied Patricia's rope to the hitch post, she could feel the air around her as it grew damp and heavy with the storm clouds that swirled angrily overhead. They hadn't broken yet and Andy thanked the heavens for that fact as she rushed through the back tent flap and crept along the shadows near the wall. She didn't appear to have been noticed and, breathing a sigh of relief, she took her usual position near the back of the crowd that had gathered around the raised stage. They were all there, Andy noticed as she flicked her eyes across the performers. It was the finale, she could tell, as Hattie swept the crowd into a frenzy, waving her webbed fingers towards the main stage, where each one was sweeping into a bow.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and jumped at the touch, turning to see a red-faced Gershin. Gershin coiled a fistful of beard and stared at her with beady black eyes. "Where in hell have you been?"

Caught.

Andy could feel beads of sweat gathering below her hair line as her mind spun with possible explanations for her absence. Finally she locked on to one of the ideas and used it as a life preserver. "I was.. out tending to the horses. They seemed upset... I think it's the weath--"

"You were gone an awfully long time, girl," Gershin rasped as he tossed his beard over his left shoulder.

"I know," Andy pleaded, her large brown eyes swelling innocently as she struggled to keep afloat, "I... am sorry. They wouldn't settle."

Gershin's laugh was the last thing that she wanted to hear. But there it was in her ear as he tightened the grip on her shoulder. "Well you'll make up the time. Tonight you're going to earn your keep, girl."

No. No, no, no. He couldn't mean...

But that was exactly what he meant Andy realized as she felt her wrist captured within a calloused hand as Gershin dragged her up on to the stage. She stared at the crowd and felt her stomach revolting, threatening to spill its meager contents over the wooden floorboards. They were watching her eagerly, as they did the other freaks, looking to have a laugh at another's expense. She turned her head to avoid them and locked eyes with Miranda, who was standing at the corner of the stage with her arms crossed in front of her abdomen.

Her silver white hair peeked out from beneath a golden gypsy's cap that sat flat against her head and fell away to reveal her golden earrings and jewellery dangling around her neck. Her eyes looked different. Gone was the usual indifference, and in its stead was an unfamiliar expression. She looked almost worried.

Andy felt her wrist pulled above her head.

Gershin addressed the crowd, "NOW... we have much more for you to see! In addition to the amazing show you've already seen, I personally invite all of the menfolk to remain behind as the ladies follow Miss Hattie here to the magician's tent! Inside, they will get to look at the wonders that have seen up on stage, up close! They'll be able to own their very own piece of history, with cards they won't get anywhere but here! They will be the envy of their friends as they pull out a photograph of the wolf boy, or the bearded lady!"

The women and children did as they were guided to do and Hattie was careful to lead the crowd away to the magician's tent as quickly as possible, leaving the lump of curious men behind. Most of the performers left too, except for Emily who remained on stage and Miranda who stood in the shadows of the back wall, her piercing blue eyes trained upon her. Once they had gone, Gershin grinned coyly at the gentlemen in the crowd.

"Now that it's just us, boys, I have a special treat for you! This is something we don't advertise on the front bills because of the genteel nature of the women and children... but I assure you, this is something you will not want to miss. For the meager sum of fifty cents, the bearded lady is going to let all of you fine fellows see the if she's as hairy below the dress as she is above!" He winked and Andy swallowed as she looked to Emily, whose eyes were set and vacant as she twirled around to entice the men. It appeared to be working as a few men hooted and hollered.

Gershin went on. "And, something you didn't see earlier in the night. You see this beauty here, fresh as untouched snow she is, and as fair under her clothes as she is above them." Andy's eyes widened in horror as another man in the crowd called out something unintelligible and a few men laughed around him.

"She's going to show you a trick that'll have your ladyfolk giddy with glee that they let you all stay for the spectacle. Never seen anywhere before! She's going to do it all for you, show you how its done and what you'll learn... well, you'll be able to take that know-how home and make it very worth your own lady's while." Gershin grinned and Andy felt faint. He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a slender glass bottle. "It'll be just you gents, this little filly -- and this soda bottle! You won't believe your eyes."

And felt the glass thrust into her hand. She looked to the back of the tent, her eyes searching for Miranda. 

She searched the older woman’s face, desperate for even a pitying glance from the gypsy. Andy saw nothing but anger marring the gypsy’s features and Andy’s heart plummeted to the depths of her gut as she watched Miranda stalk to where Gershin stood, collecting handfuls of coins.

“You cannot do this,” Miranda hissed as she imposed herself between Gershin and the crowd.

“I just did,” Gershin said with a grin, stepping aside to greet the queue of paying customers.

“She’s your daughter,” Miranda spat, her eyes deadly. Andy shuddered at the ferocity of her stare.

“That’s right, you ol’ crone,” Gershin sneered, turning to face her. He drew himself to his full height, which was only a mere three inches taller than Miranda, and pointed a finger at her. “She’s my brat and she’ll do as I tell her. You don’t hear her complainin’, do you?”

Miranda glanced sideways at Andy. Andy’s eyes reflected the silent scream that filled her body. “Perhaps you’ve never listened.”

Gershin snorted. “You’re lucky I don’t throw you in on this show. Bet I’d scrape a pretty penny displaying the two of you together.”

“No, Mr. Sachs,” Miranda said, her voice dropping an octave lower. “You’re the lucky one.” With that, Miranda spun on her heel and was gone.

Andy felt as though her heart stopped beating while she watched the retreating figure of her only ally within the tent. She vaguely heard Gershin laughing to the crowd, telling them that he’d never show off a woman who had the power to curse off their pricks. She heard the breaking of the clouds and the rain beginning a steady pitter-patter against the tent.

After Gershin’s grubby hands collected money from every man inside, Andy was forced aside to allow for Emily to take the stage. She had to turn away, unable to watch the young woman reveal her intimacies to strangers. Her body went cold. In a few moments, that would be her.

She’d been fortunate enough never to perform in a blow off before. Luck had smiled upon her in the past, allowing her to collect the money and promote the attraction without ever having to be the attraction.

Her luck had run out.

Just an hour ago she’d been charged with the thrill of having found Miranda’s twins. Now…

Now, as the crowed burst into thunderous cheers, it was Andy’s turn to be at the center of the stage. Gershin nudged her forward and she slowly stepped to the spot Emily had held, her eyes scanning over the crowd. Their faces were hungry. Several men were licking their lips and readjusting the fronts of their trousers. Some had even dared to stroke themselves, their eyes watching eagerly as she held up the bottle.

Andy could do nothing but stall, praying for lightening to tear apart the tent and strike her dead. Her desperate prayers were chanted silently in her mind as she passed her nimble fingers over the bottle, her hand dancing slowly as she dragged her palm along the glass. The men howled.

“More!”

“Show us how it’s done!”

Andy felt the bile rise to her throat. Daring herself not to expunge the contents of her stomach, she opened her mouth and swirled her tongue around the neck of the bottle.

Several men called out and others leaned closer, pushing aside their neighbours as they vied to get the best position. Andy could feel her heart sinking lower in her chest as her tongue trailed down the length of the bottle's glass neck.

She was a virgin, a miraculous feat to have been able to retain in the business she'd been brought up in. Often performers used their whiles to earn extra money on the side, and it wasn't as if she'd never been asked. She'd been asked by several of the fellow performers in the show over the years and even one when she was just a girl of twelve. She'd been offered sweets as her reward, but she'd declined. She knew what it was about. She'd seen it more times then she could count.

After all, she did share a caravan with her mother and father who made no effort to shield their actions from their daughter, except for the curtain that separated her bed from the rest of the room. And even still, she assumed that was more for their comfort then hers. She'd also stumbled on Gib 'the Tall Man' and Sharla 'the girl with the longest hair'. They'd been at it up against the back of the cook house when Andy had gone to rinse off her cutlery in the wash basin. They hadn't seen her, luckily, but she'd actually stayed by and watched. She had been a curious sixteen year old and had watched their heated coupling with a tingle in her stomach as the back of her forearm brushed her breast through the fabric of her dress.

But she'd never done it herself, and to imagine what she would have to do with the bottle was making her faint with worry. She had seen that particular act done as well. Not at their show, but Gershin had dragged her and Hattie along to another show years before, and Gershin had raved about it for weeks following. To say it was degrading was the understatement of the century.

Andy pushed the glass lip into her mouth and swallowed the bottle up to the base of the neck before drawing it out and repeating the tantalizing action several times in succession. She tried to ignore that one of the men in the front row had actually shoved his hand down the waistband of his pants and was watching her through slits between his eyelids.

She dragged it out for as long as she could, but soon the crowd was getting antsy and Gershin said in a sickeningly sweet voice, with the smile of a talker written clear across his features, "All right luv, show 'em what they came to see."

Andy could feel the tears prickling her eyes as she placed the wet bottle on the wooden stool and reached for the strings that cinched her bodice closed. She tugged nervously and felt the fabric begin to give way as her breasts spilled a little over the corset's laced rim.

The crowd cheered so loud that Andy could hardly hear the sound of the tent flaps whipping up into the wind as the roof above them was released. Her eyes shot up to the starless night sky as the rain poured in on the spectators, drenching the stage and wetting the grass beneath them as they were all snap,ped into action.

Gershin's eyes were as wide as saucers and he tried to calm the crowd that had begun to run off in different directions. "All right, Gents! More tomorrow!!! This has been the Sachs of Spades Sideshow!"

His voice paled in comparison to the wind and rain that crashed around them and Andy could hear the thunder crackling as it sent down spikes of lighting in the field nearby. All around them the townies scattered together to find their families as they ran for the cover of wagons or horses to get back to the heart of the town.

Andy gathered the hems of her wet gown and moved to run when she felt a hand close around her wrist. Thinking it was Gershin, Andy tried to pull her hand free with force and found herself nose to nose with Miranda.

Rain teamed between their gaze and Miranda's jaw flexed.

"Come," she authoritatively commanded as she pulled Andy into a run away from the torrent of confusion that tore about the tent.

Finally, just when Andy felt as though she couldn't run anymore, they arrived at Miranda's caravan and Miranda slid the spider key into the lock and pulled Andy inside. Slamming it shut behind her, Miranda leaned against the door, her wet bosom rising and falling as she pulled air through her nose.

“They certainly know how to tie a knot,” Miranda heaved, drawing in another heavy lungful of air. She snatched her gold shawl from her shoulders and draped it on the chair along with her gypsy cap. Her fingers combed through her silver hair and she shook out the damp locks.

Andy stood motionless, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed as she found herself unable to take her eyes off of Miranda’s wet body. Andy stared at her long, thin fingers as she loosened the ties of her bodice and skirt.

After several moments of silence, Andy realized that she had nearly forgotten to register Miranda’s comment. After a pause, a confused “huh?” passed over her lips.

Miranda raised an eyebrow, allowing Andy to come to the conclusion on her own.

Andy pursed her lips and tilted her head. “Oh. It was you?”

“It wasn’t the wind.”

“But why? If Gershin finds out…”

“Gershin believes the storm uprooted the tent.”

“But…”

Miranda lifted an eyebrow. Andy closed her mouth.

The two regarded each other for several long moments. Andy felt the intensity of Miranda’s gaze burn hotter than any of the townies. She felt the heavy, squirming tingle within her belly as Miranda’s eyes raked unabashedly over her body.

“You’re wet.”

Andy slowly nodded.

“We’ll catch our deaths if we stay in these wet clothes.”

Andy nodded again, her eyes mesmerized as she watched Miranda continue to loosen her clothing. She watched as Miranda crossed the small room, rummaging through a drawer. She pulled out a white shift and held it out to Andy.

“You should undress now.”

Andy's hands trembled as she accepted the garment, her skin setting on fire when Miranda's hand brushed against hers in the exchange. She closed her fingers around the shift as she pulled it free of Miranda's delicate hand. The older woman was watching her through crystalline blue eyes, a silver forelock slick with moisture rebelliously caressing one shapely brow. 

Andy looked around but didn't see anywhere separated for changing, so she moved her fingers to the opened strings on her bodice and began to separate them. She expected Miranda to turn around, disinterested, and was surprised when instead the woman's gaze remained fixed upon her. Andy's large, doe-like eyes moved to Miranda's as she pulled the sides of her gown apart and began gliding the bodice down the swell of her hips, revealing a sheer white shift beneath. It clung to the curves of her breasts and Andy was faintly aware that her darkened nipples would show through the material. But at this moment, modesty didn't seem to matter. All that mattered was Miranda's eyes as they glittered in the candle light and the smell of the gypsy's perfume invading her senses.

As she stepped out of the bodice, Andy leaned forward and scooped the wet garments into her arms. She could feel the coolness against her pert nipples and she barely noticed as the bill from earlier, freed from her bosom, fluttered to the floor between them. It didn't, however, escape Miranda's notice, and the gypsy leaned forward and plucked it off of the floor.

Andy suddenly remembered what she'd wanted to tell Miranda, and as it was on her lips she motioned to the bill. "Oh... I was going to--"

"What is this?" Miranda interrupted, lifting a hand in the air as her other moved the bill closer to the candle.

"Uhh that... I just, that was--"

"Where did you get this?" Miranda asked impatiently, agitation returning to her voice. 

"I," Andrea swallowed nervously, suddenly feeling very under dressed for the conversation change, "I saw your reaction to the bill I found in here. Then I heard about conjoined twins... down.. down the road from the other freak show. And I, just... I went to see--"

"When?" Miranda asked, her eyes narrowing, "During the show?"

"I... yes..." Andy admitted as she dropped her glance to her feet, still firmly enclosed within soaking wet boots.

"That is punishable--"

"I did it for you!" Andy blurted and all but clapped a hand over her mouth at her own surging emotion. There was no way she would be made to feel worse then she already did, not if she had any say in the matter.

Miranda looked as though she'd been slapped. After a drawn out silence, in a voice barely audible, she spoke. "For me?"

Andy nodded. "They're your daughters, aren't they?"

Before she could react, Andy found herself pressed against the wall of the caravan with both wrists suspended beside her on either side of her head. Miranda's lips were inches away from hers as she spoke, her tone low and even through closed teeth. "I didn't ask you to interfere."

"I wasn't interfering," Andy spat back. "I wanted to help."

"How many times must I tell you that I don't need or want your help?"

"You can say it 'til the cows come home, but I'm going to do it anyway! You can't dictate my actions."

"That's why Gershin meant to put you in the blow off. To punish you for leaving."

Andy stared defiantly into Miranda's eyes. "Yes. And I'd have gone through with it because finding out that your kids are only a few miles up the road was worth it. I'd do it again."

"Perhaps I was wrong about you," Miranda said, her voice low and throaty. Her eyes seemed lost, the grip on her wrists loosening slightly. The anger seemed to shift into something else, something Andy recognized instantly.

"Yea. I guess you were. It meant more to me to be able to tell you that your girls are safe and alive than it did to stay on my father's good side. I'm sick of being everyone's puppet. I'm Andy and no one seems to see that. Not even you."

"I see you."

"Who am I?" 

"You..." Miranda's eyes lowered to glance at Andy's lips before flicking them back to her eyes. "You're Andrea."

Andy shivered.

Her own voice sounded breathy and foreign in response, "That card, the Chariot... you were right."

Miranda's brow raised but her eyes remained at half mast, staring deeply into the depths of Andy's. "Mmm?" she asked, not bothering to formulate a word in response.

Andy's eyes darkened with desire until they were almost pools of black, reflecting Miranda's lighter ones. "I think I've found that opportunity."

In a flash, Andy's wrists slipped free of Miranda's grasp and her fingers dug into the sides of Miranda's delicate cheeks and scalp as she pulled the older woman's lips towards her own. She captured them in a passionate kiss that felt as though it drained whatever air was left in her lungs. Her full lips pressed into Miranda's thinner ones until she could force her tongue between them, to invade the sweltering hot mouth of the gypsy in an erotic collision as they swirled and sucked and licked.

Thunder clashed overhead, though Andy found herself on another plane, scarcely hearing the storm that was nearly directly over the settlement of caravans. Nothing mattered, nothing but the insistent searching of Miranda's tongue against her own. She'd never been kissed like this before, never knew what it was like to be wanted and to want so badly in return. She never knew how her body would feel fully alive when pressed against another.

Miranda's hands grasped and pulled at her hips as she pressed her body completely against Andy's, shoving her against the door. The loud slap of her wet shift-covered backside hitting the wood of the door caused them to pause, both women panting as they trembled and stared at each other.

Miranda pressed her forehead against Andy's. In her closeness, Andy could feel the pounding of Miranda's heart against her breast. She could feel the swell of her curves pressed against her. With a shuddering sigh and a groan, Andy claimed Miranda's mouth once more.

They stumbled away from the door and collided with one of Miranda's bookcases, knocking several of the heavy books on to the floor with loud thuds that went unheard. Andy's hands slid down the length of Miranda's back and up the ripple of her ribcage until they pressed against the soft mounds of Miranda's breasts. Her fingertips massaged the hardened nipples felt so easily regardless of the clothing separating them. Miranda moaned into her mouth and Andy swallowed it as she hooked her ankle behind Miranda's and lowered her to the ground in an ungraceful tumble that had Andy landing on top as their breasts heaved together in unison.

Andy raised herself to her knee as she placed her other knee between Miranda's warm thighs. The gypsy's eyes fluttered closed and Andy smiled as she realized the power she held in the situation. She felt more alive and free in this moment than in any other moment that had come before it. She wanted more of it. What's worse was she needed more of it. She didn't want anything else more then she wanted Miranda.

Her fingers deftly moved at the laces on Miranda's gown until she'd managed to pull them apart. She didn't wait until the dress was off but reached her fingers inside Miranda's corset and palmed her breast until she'd freed it from its cincture. Her attention was drawn to its perfectly hardened nipple, begging for attention as she lowered her lips to begin a tantalizing dance of electricity, rivaling the spikes of lighting that forked around the caravans outside.

Miranda arched her back, her moan driving Andy to suck harshly at the pebbled bud in her mouth. She closed her eyes and hummed, her sex clenching tightly as Miranda squirmed beneath her. This power was intoxicating. With a grin that Miranda could not see, she began to nip at her nipple with her teeth, drawing it between them and pulling. Miranda hissed and Andy continued, blowing her cool breath over the nub before stopping her teases to suck harshly, as if she would die without it.

"Andrea," Miranda choked, and Andy felt a gush of moisture between her legs. She swiftly switched to Miranda's other breast and felt a thrill of pleasure when the older woman bucked harshly against her.

Andy didn't know what she was doing. She only knew what she had to do and moved forward with an unfamiliar need driving her to claim what she so badly desired. Lowering her trembling hand, she cupped Miranda's sex through the fabric of the garments that had yet to be divested.

Miranda's hips ground sharply against her and Andy felt the straddled thigh move between her legs, pressing against her own heated sex. Andy felt a jolt of pressure tighten in her stomach and then flutter to a dizzying bout of momentary blindness as she ground against Miranda's leg.

Both women let out soft moans that mingled in the perfume drenched air and drew a fresh coating of sweat from their pores. Andy had managed to pull Miranda's dress down her body with help from the older woman, who shed the wet garment like a snake shedding skin. Then they were in thin linen and silk undergarments, and both could feel the heat of the other as their bodies flexed against one another in rhythmic passion. Andy's lips moved along the column of Miranda's throat and Miranda's neck arched into her mouth as her eyes swiveled back under the hoods of her eyelids.

"This is what I want Miranda," Andy whispered throatily near the shell of the gypsy's ear before she swirled her tongue along its hollow. Pulling the soft flesh of Miranda's earlobe into her mouth, Andy nipped enticingly as her fingers moved over Miranda's sex through the wet bloomers.

Miranda's hips rolled in time with her motions and Andy found she could wait no longer to feel the most intimate part of Miranda's body. She slipped her fingers beneath the waist band of the silken bloomers and dipped the tips into the deliciously slick folds that greeted her. Her own lips fell open at the sensation and Miranda's jaw tightened as her lips forced open in a silent scream.

"I've never..." Andy began, but she realized it didn't matter that she'd never done this before. She shifted her fingers against Miranda's sex, blindly fumbling against her scorching wet flesh. She accidentally brushed against a hardened nub and paused when Miranda shrieked loudly in her ear. "You like it here?" Andy asked, teasing her middle finger in slow circles around it. Miranda's breathless nod caused Andy to shudder and involuntarily rub hard against Miranda's leg.

Andy's eyelids fluttered as she worked her hips against Miranda's leg and she felt her body begin to tighten. She pulled her hips away, not ready to lose control so quickly. She wanted--needed--to focus on Miranda.

She continued her motions, passing her finger directly over the bud before sliding down. To her surprise, her finger slipped with ease inside of her. Miranda's cries were eclipsed by strangled gasps. Her entire body shook so hard that Andy thought she might not be able to breathe. "Miranda, are you--"

Miranda opened her eyes and stared at Andy. She'd never seen a more perfect, beautiful sight in the entirety of her life. "Now," Miranda gasped. "Take me now. Hard. Do it now."

When Andy's fingers fumbled slightly, unsure of exactly what Miranda wanted, the gypsy used one hand to pull down the front of her bloomers as she straightened two fingers and plunged them inside of Andy's tight wetness. Andy cried out as the mixture of pain and pleasure overwhelmed her and as she looked down into Miranda's eyes in surprise, Miranda knew that 'I've never' were truer words then she'd interpreted. Miranda's fingers curled slightly within her and Andy's lips parted as she arched backwards, her mane of silken dark hair falling easily behind her.

Then slowly Andy felt Miranda's slender fingers retracting and returning and Andy could do nothing but enjoy the feeling as her hips rode up and down, her sex flexing to accommodate. She'd never felt anything like it, and the experience made her tremble with ecstasy as she tried to regain her own ministrations. Wet heat poured out of her and she could see a trickle of red once it had slid down her thigh and seeped through the white linen bloomers.

Finally, her head cleared for a few seconds, but it was enough to drive three of her fingers as deep as they went inside of Miranda. The woman below her cried out again and Andy pushed further, driving her fingers in and out of the older woman just as she allowed her own sex to tighten against Miranda's digits as they stroked along her internal walls.

Miranda's hips danced hypnotically against Andy's hand, her sex eagerly swallowing her fingers each time Andy dared to teasingly withdraw. She watched, completely entranced at the coupling, at two hands dexterously drawing out as much pleasure as possible. Andy mimicked Miranda's motions, twisting and curling and stroking in time with her. She found herself quickly losing her breath. Darkness was creeping around the corners of her eyes and she felt lightheaded, dizzy with want as she teetered over the edge. Her hips sank onto Miranda's hand, chasing the deliriously exhilarating mixture of pleasure and pain.

She thrust her fingers hard and fast until her arm began to cramp in pain, but she kept on. She was close, so close, and if Miranda's unintelligible cries meant anything, she was close too. Andy pressed her thumb to the side of Miranda's throbbing bundle of nerves.

Miranda's hand stilled as her walls began to clench, hard and fast, around Andy's fingers. And then, just as she watched Miranda's face with wonder and awe, she felt her own release explode within her and she doubled forward on top of Miranda with her fingers still buried inside her molten-like center.

Their shallow breathing, coupled with the sounds of thunder and rain from outside the caravan, were the only noises that lingered in the present timeline. The walls still thudded with the erotic current they had created, still holding within them the secret cries and moans that they alone had been privy to during the length of their coupling.

They lay, still dressed, with hands haphazardly shoved beneath bloomers, their fingers still penetrating one another's dripping sexes as they tried to reclaim the breaths they had lost.

Andy eased her fingers slowly from Miranda's center and looked up at her. She wasn't sure what she expected to find when she settled her gaze upon the gypsy's face, but she hadn't been expecting a smile. The breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding eased from her lungs.

"Well," Miranda said, looking at Andy. "Perhaps we can get off this hard, disgusting floor?"

Andy blushed and bit her lip as Miranda slid her fingers out from inside her. She felt empty at the loss. "I...yes. Sorry...I wasn't..."

"Never apologize after sex," Miranda replied, sitting up with a grunt. "Change out of that wet shift."

Andy did as she was told, her body tingling anew as she lowered Miranda's gown over her body. She could smell the woman's scent and the notion warmed her.

She looked towards the gypsy who was standing at the wash basin, tilting her wet red fingers curiously in the light. Andy blushed and watched as Miranda dipped her fingers into the water, turning it a slightly pink color as the metallic liquid cleansed from her skin.

"I'm... sorry," Andy mumbled softly, unsure of what else to say and she received a glare from Miranda. But the glare held no animosity, and Andy enjoyed watching Miranda's lips curl up softly at the corners.

"I didn't realize it was your first time, Andrea," Miranda said softly, her eyes unabashedly trailing from Andy's feet to her eyes and back again as the younger woman removed her shoes.

Andy shivered. "I told you-"

"I thought you meant with a woman."

"Oh. Well... err... surprise?"

Miranda's lips parted and she chuckled softly under her breath as she dried her hands on the towel near the basin. She approached Andy slowly and slid her soft hands up Andy's forearms to clutch at her elbows.

"I would have waited," Miranda jerked her head towards the bed in the corner that Andy hadn't noticed until that very moment. "We could have at least made it to the bed."

"We can make it to the bed now?" Andy said with a grin, twining her arms around Miranda’s neck. She kissed her softly, allowing her lips to press unhurriedly against Miranda’s.

Miranda pulled away first and led Andy to the bed, pulling back the blankets.

“Miranda?”

“Hmm?”

“Is it okay if I stay here tonight? I mean, if Gershin finds out…”

“He won’t find out. And if he does, I’ll tell him I’ll curse him so that his nether regions turn into those of a female’s.” She paused and smiled at Andy’s laugh. “You are not going back to that tent. I’d rather give him some time to forget your impending punishment.”

“He won’t forget.”

Miranda waited for Andy to slip under the blankets before following her in and lifting both bare feet from the floor. Miranda's expression had turned gravely serious and Andy watched her carefully.

"If he hurts you, he will have me to deal with," Miranda stated firmly, her voice low and fatal as she registered the finality of her declaration. Andy had no other option but to nod in agreement as she nuzzled into the thick pillow. Miranda draped an arm protectively around her waist and Andy could feel the gypsy moving closer to her.

"What are you going to do about the twins?" Andy asked as she nuzzled her nose deep into Miranda's hair.

Miranda stiffened slightly and Andy feared she'd said the wrong thing, but then she relaxed against her.

"I will get them back. My daughters..." Miranda paused and Andy watched her eyes lighten several shades as she finally met her own darker gaze "...I haven't seen my daughters in seven years. They were taken from me when they were little girls."

Andy's eyes widened and she swallowed the nervous lump that had gathered in her throat. She wanted to ask why or how, but she realized the discomfort that would put on Miranda and kept her lips firmly sealed.

Miranda's eyes locked on to her own with a sincerity that remained unfaltering. "I will get them back, Andrea. And when I do, I will take them far away from this. Never again will they be forced to stand before a crowd and flaunt their gift."

Andy nodded and smiled softly, without fully registering what Miranda said. She didn't realize this as they fell into a pleasant sleep, or as they remained entwined together until the morning hours the following day. Only when she woke up, blinked back sleep, and noticed that Miranda was gone did Andy realize what she stood to lose.

Andy redressed in the quiet solitude of Miranda’s caravan, the early light of dawn creeping through the windows and splashing across the wooden floorboards. She frowned, wishing that Miranda hadn’t gone, knowing full-well where she’d gone to. A nervous feeling weighed heavily within her stomach at the prospect of Miranda being discovered leaving the grounds. She couldn’t bear the thought of Miranda being punished.

She didn’t know whether to wait in Miranda’s caravan or head back to her own. Deciding that she’d better attempt to sneak back into the caravan that she shared with her parents, Andy searched for a scrap of paper to leave Miranda a note.

When she stopped at the table, she noticed an apple and a new tarot card. This card was labeled “Strength” and showed a young woman holding open the jaws of a lion.

Andy smiled. Strength. They’d need plenty.

She scribbled a quick note, tucked the card in her corset, and bit into the apple as she left the caravan.

Outside, Andy made her way through the forest to the clearing where the other caravans were set up. The morning sun shone brightly and she enjoyed the way it felt on her skin as her boots traveled across the slick grass. Once she'd finished the apple, she tossed the core into the last bush of tall grass and headed with a heavy heart towards Hattie and Gershin's caravan.

She felt changed somehow. The night with Miranda had been exquisite. She could feel her stomach flutter and her thighs tighten when she remembered what it felt to be an extension of another person -- and not just any person at that. She had seen past the walls that sheltered Miranda the Divine from her inferiors. She'd been invited in to the secret garden and had been lured to take all that she wished of the forbidden fruit. Finally, Andy felt happy.

With a deep breath, Andy lifted her hand to the thick wooden door handle and pulled it open. There were no lights flickering inside and Andy could see a mass of pillows and blankets covering the sleeping forms of her parents. She'd be safe then. She held back the sigh of relief and tiptoed over to her bed, removed the damp clothing ,and slipped below the covers, still shroud in Miranda's shift. She inhaled the scent of the thin fabric and pulled the covers up to her neck as she reached over and pulled the curtains closed around her bed.

Then, ever so carefully, she reached her hand down the front of the shift and lifted the thin material to her hips. One hand slowly stole beneath her bloomers and she ran her hand over the delicate skin of her thighs, slightly rough from the dried blood that had been a reminder of her departed virginity. A secret smile spread across her lips and she let her fingertips stroke across the mound of her gentle sex as she remembered the way Miranda had looked beneath her. She could remember the way she smelled and the way her breath caught in her chest as it rose and fell sending Miranda spiralling into sexual abyss. She remembered her wet hand and how she had lifted it to her lips to taste when Miranda wasn't looking. She remembered Miranda's taste...

Her fingers began to move against the hard bundle of nerves that hid beneath her soft dark hair and she pinched it between her thumb and index finger and rolled it softly as she felt a hot surge flow through her. Biting her lip, she continued the ministrations as she imagined doing the very same to Miranda. She wished the gypsy hadn't fled the caravan before she'd awoken. She'd wanted so badly to continue what they had started, not wanting to believe that life did in fact continue after nights like that. There were so many things she wanted to try and so many ways she wanted to bring Miranda to the writhing, rasping vixen she had been the night before.

Andy arched off of the bed as two fingers slid inside of herself and the muscles in her abdomen squeezed in delight before releasing and allowing her head to drop back into the pillow's folds. She bit into her lip to keep from crying out and moved the fingers deep within herself, exploring as she remembered Miranda's doing the same only hours before.

She could feel the passion building within her and she writhed on her hand as her hips rolled against it in fervid delight. And just as she was reaching that frenzied pinnacle, just as she could feel the sensation speeding towards an imminent release, the curtain shielding her bed fluttered and then swung open to reveal Hattie's soured face.

Her sticky hand pulled out of her hot center and grabbed hold of the covers as she felt a flush of embarrassment bleeding across her face. Her chest was heaving as she looked up at her mother, her eyes wide in surprise. Luckily for Andy, Hattie's powers of observation were as elusive as ever.

"Out of bed, girl! It's off to the pens for you and then the donnikers," she snarled, reaching forward and pulling Andy by the wrist until she fell forward off of her small sleeping area. The older woman reached into the clothes bin and pulled out one of Andy's older dresses and tossed it at her as Andy made a move to struggle to her feet.

"Take this, get it on and get out there," Hattie ordered, staring at Andy as she pulled the dress over her shift. Hattie's eyes roamed across it and Andy watched as her mother's expression shifted slightly before returning to the scowl. "If you're old enough to spend the night in someone else's bed, you're old enough to work like a hired hand. Now, get out there."

Andy felt Hattie's webbed hands at her back as she was forced from the caravan, her dress strings untied and her boots only half on. She stared at the slamming wooden door and turned away to look at the empty camp around her. Her heart jack hammered in her chest and she felt her sticky wet thighs rub uncomfortably against the fabric of her bloomers as she slowly made her way to the horse pen, a complete mess of confusion, anger, and unbridled passion.

"You think you can run around here, coming and going at your will? Like you own the place?" Hattie shoved Andy into the muddy slop. "You keep in mind who's in charge here and mind your P's and Q's. Jus' you wait till your father finds you, girl." Hattie threw down the shovel, the metal slapping a spray of mud across Andy's face. "Now get to work."

Andy spat and wiped her mouth, staring venomously at Hattie as she headed on her way. She fumed and frustrated tears burned in her eyes.

It doesn't matter. It was worth it...whatever happens is worth it...

"They've really got it out for you today," Nigel said, watching as Andy ambled to her feet. 

She quickly laced her boots and secured her dress before reaching for the shovel. "They've always got it out for me." 

"I saw you disappear into the woods last night," Nigel added quietly, watching Andy as she worked. "With Miranda." 

Andy couldn't hide her blush and was embarrassed at how quickly her anger dissolved into desire. Her sex clenched tightly, weeping its need for release. "She helped me get away." 

"I'm glad she was able to lend a helping hand." 

Andy's face burned brighter and she turned away, hoping that Nigel had missed the obvious details of her encounter with Miranda as they washed upon her face. 

"I'm not passing judgment," Nigel said, and Andy wanted to hide in the trough. "You're an adult. It's time you start acting like it." 

"Not much chance of that in this God forsaken place," Andy retorted angrily. 

"You mark my words, Six," Nigel added, his voice low and deadly serious, "one of these days Hattie and Gershin are going to get what's coming to them. I can promise you that." 

\--- 

Andy had nearly finished in the paddock when Gershin appeared, his broad shoulders set with an angry resolve. Andy braced herself. She wondered if she'd come out of this alive.

"So you thought you could make a fool out of me, eh? You though you could gallivant all over town like a little harlot and disappear for the night?" Gershin unbuckled his belt and pulled it loose from his pants. He smacked the leather against his palm. "Bend over the fence and lift your dress. It's time you learned a lesson."

Andy watched him beneath a heavy canopy of tousled hair, her eyes defiant as she remembered the tarot card that was tucked close at her bosom. Strength.

She tried to imagine what Miranda would do if faced with the same problem, but she found that she couldn't imagine the woman in any type of subservient role. She couldn't imagine Miranda willingly accepting punishment of any kind. In fact, she couldn't imagine anyone with courage enough to lift a hand to the woman. She hoped she would never witness that day.

But it was worth it...

Her own words echoed in her mind and she felt a smile spread across her lips. She tried to swallow it back but she couldn't chase away the joy that she felt. No one could take that away from her, not even Gershin. He could cause her all of the pain in the world and she would still have those memories and still have the brandished ghost of Miranda's hands upon her skin.

Gershin snapped the leather belt angrily in the air. "I'll take that cheeky grin off yer face, girl."

Andy watched as he drew near and knew at that moment that running would get her nowhere. She would have to come back. Eventually, she would have to face him, and the punishment would be worse. So, surrendering to a fate she could not change, Andy did as instructed and bent over the paddock fence, the wood splintering the front of her dress. She reached down and began lifting the skirt of the dress, embarrassed that he would see the bloodied bloomers from her actions of the night before. She hadn't had a chance to change them and now she regretted having not removed them when she'd gotten into her bed.

Once her skirt was up around her waist, the muscles in her body clenched in fear and dread as she waited to feel the sting of leather against her backside.

“That where you went off to last night?” he asked. “Whorin’ it up around town? Get those disgusting bloomers down ‘round your knees. Ain’t nothing I ain’t already seen before.”

Andy’s face burned, mortification washing over her. She was exposed. Anyone would be able to see her. She felt her strength beginning to waver as he smacked the belt against his hand once again.

“You at least get paid for your deeds, girl?” he asked, bringing the belt hard across her backside. She screamed. “Where’d you go?” He struck her again.

“To c-calm the horses,” Andy said, her eyes screwed tightly shut. She thought of Miranda, steadfast, strong.

Have strength, Andy…

“Lies!” he cried, smacking her harder this time. She saw little lights behind her eyelids. “Where’d you go when the storm hit?”

“I went t-to get away f-from you!” Andy spat, her backside stinging painfully as the welts were kissed by the cool breeze.

"You disgust me, you filthy little tramp," Gershin roared as he brought the belt down upon her in a hard flash of fury that she felt registering at every single nerve ending in her body. She didn't scream but as she sucked the air into her lungs, her throat caught and a painful moan erupted past her lips.

Gershin continued as he coiled the leather around his hand, "And here I thought that little trick at the blow-off was going to be a bit of learnin' fer ya. Little did I know, you'd already had it off just minutes before!"

Andy squeezed her eyes shut and bit down on her tongue to hold it in place. It would do no good to argue.

Gershin drew the belt high above his head and brought it down once more, square in the middle of her red backside, the skin screaming with pain even before she heard the loud snap. Then, without warning Gershin was behind her, his hand buried in her hair as he pulled her head backwards to look down into her eyes. "If I ever catch you leavin' in the middle of an act again, I'll kill you."

Andy sobbed as Gershin threw her down. She hit the wooden rail with a tremendous amount of force and felt her teeth slicing into her bottom lip. Within seconds she tasted the metallic tang of blood.

She waited until Gershin had left the ring before getting to her knees, wincing painfully as she pulled her bloomers over her sore backside. She pulled her dress down, shaking as she attempted to get to her feet. Her legs were unsteady and she gripped the rail for support.

Andy hardly noticed that Doug and Lily had rushed inside the paddock and stared at them, dazed.

“We saw the whole thing,” Lily said, taking Andy’s arm around her shoulder. She steadily helped her out of the paddock, pausing at a bucket near the trough. She dipped her hands in and washed the mud, tears, and blood from her face. “You have to get out of here for a while ‘til he cools off.”

“I…I can’t,” Andy replied, hissing as the cut on her lip met the cool water. “Have to clean the donnikers…”

“Let us handle that,” Doug offered, filling the trough. “You need to get out of here.”

Andy smiled gratefully at her friends and she steadied herself on her feet as Doug loosened his grip on her and allowed her to get her bearings. It was a few minutes before she could walk properly and she squeezed first Doug's then Lily's hand. "Thank you... both."

Lily and Doug smiled gently. "You're welcome, Andy," Lily said as she leaned in to kiss Andy's cheek. Doug nodded softly and then both turned and began to make their way to the rest of Andy's chores. Scanning the area, she couldn't see Gershin and she figured he be tying the tent flaps back into place and cleaning up after the events of the night before.

Andy took the offered chance and hobbled quickly to the forest. Once under the cover of the sweeping bows of the ancient trees, Andy picked up into a run and didn't stop until she reached the caravan that had suddenly become a beacon of hope. The fire was still out and Andy rapped on the wooden door.

There was no response.

Pulling the door open, Andy stepped within the warm caravan and looked around. Her note was still there in the same position as she'd left it, as were the crumpled bed sheets and the disarray from the night before. She wondered if Miranda would loath the intrusion or be annoyed at her presence when she returned but, without any other options, she was forced to take the chance that Miranda would be glad to see her. 

Andy sighed painfully as she stepped out of her muddy boots and pulled the old dress off of her shoulders. She slipped out of the material easily and gathered it into a ball, discarding it on top of the shoes. She wanted so much to sleep it off and to feel the usual numbness that often came after the severe beatings. But Andy did not lay down. Instead, she busied herself with clearing the mess that their coupling had created because it reminded her of the night before. It reminded her of Miranda and sharing a small space as she'd slept the night away protected by the gypsy's embrace.

Once she'd cleaned up the area, she made the bed and tidied the sheets before lowering herself into the comfortable folds. She felt the muscles in her body stiffen and she painfully moved to her side so as not to brush the achingly sensitive skin against anything. It didn't take long and soon she found herself drifting into a restless, exhausted sleep.

She dreamt that she was the woman in the tarot card, but her strength ran out. She tried and tried to hold the lion’s mouth open but she couldn’t. She didn’t have the physical strength. Its jaws clamped shut around her—

Andy jolted awake, wincing painfully as she sat upright in the bed. She looked around, confused and startled, and relaxed to see Miranda standing beside the table.

“Oh good,” Miranda said, loosening her shawl, “you’re still here. I walked into town to see if I could see my girls. They don’t have as open of arrangement as we have here. From what I could tell, they’re kept under heavy lock and key.” She draped the shawl on the chair and continued. “I think I’ll go again tonight after the show and see—“

Andy held her breathe, watching Miranda carefully.

“You’re hurt.” She crossed the room swiftly. As she lowered her weight onto the small mattress, Andy winced. “What happened to you?”

Emotion clenched at Andy’s throat. “I went back to the caravan to see if maybe they wouldn’t know I’d been gone all night…” A fat tear rolled down her cheek. "They both had their turns, but Gershin…he…”

“Did he beat you, Andrea?”

Andy nodded and began to sob, comforted only when Miranda whisked her arms around her shoulders and pulled her into her neck. She shushed her, rocked her gently, and kissed the top of her head.

“I warned that man.”

“He’s going crazy. He’s never been like this before. He th-threatened to k-kill me and,” Andy paused as a coughing fit seized her. “And I believe him!”

Miranda regarded Andy for a long moment before whispering softly in to her ear. "Strength, Andrea."

Andy sniffed and nodded, looking at Miranda through wounded eyes as she tried very hard to grasp on to those words. When spoken from the gypsy enchantress's mouth it almost seemed possible.

Miranda stroked Andy's dark hair back from her eyes and stood up, leaving Andy's body begging to be touched. She wanted the closeness and proximity that only Miranda could offer her. But Miranda moved away to the other side of the caravan and began riffling through glass jars of different colors and shapes.

"Lay down," Miranda said softly as she held various bottles to the light and uncorked them to wave them delicately under her nose.

Andy did as instructed and laid down on her stomach, watching Miranda from over her shoulder. Miranda, having selected one of the bottles, returned to the bed and sat at its edge near Andy's hip. "This is going to feel uncomfortably warm when I put it on but after several minutes the pain will fade."

Andy nodded and buried her face into the pillow. She could feel Miranda's cool finger tips lifting the shift up the length of her back to rest near her shoulder blades. Then ever so slowly she felt the dirtied bloomers being dragged down the backs of her thighs and over her calves, where they were completely removed from her body. She shivered lightly, though not from the cold, and heard Miranda intake a sharp breath.

When she spared a glance at the gypsy over her shoulder, she saw that Miranda's eyes had narrowed considerably as she ran her eyes over the wounds. Interestingly enough, she also saw the gentle hint of something akin to arousal as those very same eyes took in the sight of her naked body for the first time. Andy blushed softly and watched as Miranda uncorked the bottle and poured a clear liquid in the hollow dip in the small of her back.

Andy groaned softly into the pillow as Miranda began to work her fingers against her welted flesh, rubbing the liquid into her pores. She cried out, her body torn between pleasure and pain. She squirmed.

“I’ll be gentle, Andrea,” Miranda said, her voice low and silky. Andy shuddered.

An odd tingling sensation encompassed the entirety of her backside as the liquid seeped into the wounds and, after several minutes of discomfort, the pain began to numb. She eased the tension out of her body and allowed herself to relax as the pain all but entirely subsided.

“That’s amazing,” Andy gaped, reaching behind to feel for herself that there were actually wounds on her backside. She could feel the puffy, raised flesh, but her body registered no pain.

“It feels better?”

“Yes,” Andy replied, her hand slowing as it passed over the round globe of her bottom. She looked over her shoulder, watching Miranda’s eyes fixate on her bared flesh while her hands absently wiped along a clean towel. She felt her sex begin to swell and moisten with want.

Angling her arm, Andy grasped Miranda’s wrist and guided it between her legs.

"Andrea," Miranda attempted to reason, though Andy could see her own eyes were dark with desire as her tongue wet the corner of her lip.

"This will help where the other won't, " Andy smiled, both confused and delighted at her sudden wanton courage. She could see Miranda's lips curve up briefly at the corners and then felt the gypsy's fingers brush against her. She moaned softly in delight and dropped her head forward as Miranda moved onto the bed behind her. She could feel Miranda's fingers trace her slick opening and in that instant all of the feelings of her actions earlier that morning returned to her. She had been so close then and she felt, if it were possible, that she was just as close now.

But, biting her tongue, Andy forbid herself from letting go. Not when she could experience Miranda in the daylight. Not when she could smell, taste, and feel her lover again.

Miranda's hands were on her hips, guiding her on to her back and Andy rolled with ease, lifting one leg to settle it at Miranda's hip, effectively encasing the older woman between her legs. As her thighs spread she felt her wetness exposed and she moved her eyes down the length of her naked body, over the slope of her own breasts to her taut abdomen that rose and fell with each passionate breath.

Miranda's eyes made a slow dance along her body, burning everywhere they touched until they reached the tender area between her legs. Miranda's breath caught and her cheeks reddened as she looked upon it, appraising it like a fortune in gold displayed before her. Andy shivered and felt her rips roll forward, enticing Miranda's touch.

Miranda obeyed and reached forward drawing just one of her digits down the length of Andy's sternum, over one sharp nipple, and down her ribs and stomach until it slid along the faint hair covering her modesty and dipped into the red hot want that burned between her legs.

“Is this what you want?” Miranda asked, cupping Andy with the entirety of her palm.

Andy bucked against her hand. “Yes!”

“You feel as though you’ve been thinking about this for hours,” Miranda said, gently shifting her hand against her.

“I have been. I even…oh…I even tried to touch myself when I left this morning and I didn’t get to f-f—“

Miranda shifted her hand lazily back and forth, as if attempting to coat it completely in Andy’s arousal. Watching Miranda do it made her lose her breath.

“What were you thinking of when you were touching yourself?” The heel of her palm ground harshly against her aching bud while, at the same time, the tip of her middle finger teased her opening.

“You. Oh…you, Miranda…please…”

Miranda grinned wickedly, undulating her hand in a gentle wave against her center. She shifted her palm, easing within her folds, touching every inch of her heated sex.

Andy cried out, unable to control the tightening of her body. She bit her lip, the cut still open and sore. “I can’t hold out…I need…please…”

"You need what, Andrea?" Miranda breathed as she leaned over top of Andy, staring down the slope of her nose and into the darkness of Andy's desire-drenched eyes.

Andy watched Miranda's lips exhale the question and she moaned as she felt another finger force its way inside of her. "To..."

Miranda's brow arched in challenge. "To?" she asked, her voice husky and unbelievably erotic.

Andy heaved as her breathing became erratic, her body writhing beneath Miranda as the older woman's fingers twisted inside of her. "Cum!" she cried out, her hands gripping fistfuls of blankets as she clung to whatever was left of her sanity.

Miranda leaned down and breathed sensually into the shell of her ear, "Then cum."

Andy wanted to hold out, wanted to cling to the precipice, wanted to reach her climax on her own terms.

She came.

Head thrown back, Andy cried out until her voice was hoarse, her hips eagerly riding Miranda’s hand until she fell back to the mattress with an unceremonious thump.

She breathed deeply, staring at the ceiling, unable to believe that she had actually survived this one.

She glanced at Miranda, whose face was stained with color. She wanted to giggle and grin, but refrained when Miranda lowered her head between Andy’s legs. Her eyes widened and she dropped her head back onto the pillow.

“Oh!” she screamed, the first swipe of Miranda’s tongue against her sensitive bundle of nerves nearly driving her insane with renewed hunger. Andy saw stars as she felt the pad of Miranda's tongue dragging up the sensitive opening and she had to bite down on the knuckle of her index finger to keep from screaming.

She'd never felt anything like it. To be fair, the whole experience of sex was new to her, a foreign concept she was only just touching the tip of the iceberg on. But feeling Miranda's mouth against her almost made her leave her own body as her hips bucked against the gypsy's jaw. She hadn't even in her wildest dreams imagined that this could exist. She hadn't imagined that this could actually happen let alone feel like she had taken off at the speed of sound into a whole separate existence.

But here she was beneath the tip of Miranda's tongue as it slid up the length of her sex, gathering the fruits of her labor and retracting like a snake back between soft oval lips. Miranda's lashes fluttered closed and she let out a breathy sigh as she swallowed, making Andy's thighs burn and her sex throb for a second round of release. Andy felt as though she were going deaf and blind. Her ears roared as her heart sped to unhealthy speeds. She felt as though she were going to break apart into a million pieces, each facet of information combining to take her to another plane of existence.

Miranda began to hum against her, the vibrations of her tongue forcing Andy to whimper and beg for release. Miranda seemed to pay Andy no mind: it was as if licking her were a means to an end in and of itself for Miranda.

Andy felt Miranda shift and she watched, her eyes hazy and clouded with desire, as Miranda stole her hand beneath her own gown.

Miranda's lips parted with what could only mean that her deft fingers had found their target. Andy struggled to keep her eyes open as Miranda's hips began to undulate beneath the covering of her dress. It was hypnotic to watch and it sent a whole new wave of pleasure coursing through her veins as Miranda's tongue once again connected with the bundle of nerves nestled between her thighs.

Andy squirmed beneath the gypsy as she felt the tip of her tongue tracing slow circles that soon widened and pushed firmly against her. Andy felt a cry pull from her lips as her body contracted violently, moisture trickling down her leg in response. When she forced her eyes open, she watched as Miranda's tongue retracted into her mouth as the silver-haired gypsy arched backwards, her mouth opening in ecstasy as she followed Andy into the abyss.

Andy smiled as she felt Miranda collapse on the bed next to her, limp with post-coital bliss as they enjoyed the pure silence that enveloped them. Their bosoms rose and fell in unison as the airflow began regulating itself and Andy laid her ear against Miranda's clothed chest, listening to the sound of her speeding heart as it pumped blood to her body.

"I feel much better now," Andy said with a giggle. Miranda raised an eyebrow and rolled her eyes.

"What am I going to do with you?"

"Preferably what you just did. And often."

"I think we may be able to come to a suitable arrangement."

"There's just one thing..." Andy said, sinking her teeth into the fleshy lower lip. She winced again and Miranda, her brow scrunched in concern, tenderly kissed the wound. "I think a few of the others may know..."

"So?"

"It doesn't bother you?"

"Since when does it matter what other people think?"

"Well I just thought..."

"Andrea, we work in a Sideshow, where our gifts are exploited to the world for money, laughs, and entertainment. Who would any of us be to deny a fellow performer a bit of happiness?"

Andy beamed at her, the smile so wide that her cheeks hurt. "You're happy?"

Miranda rolled her eyes again. "And if I am?"

"That'll make everything worth it."

Miranda studied her. "They will not get away with this, Andrea. I will not allow you to be his whipping post."

Andy looked away. "What are we going to do about the twins?"

Miranda's face drooped. "I'm not altogether sure, to be truthful."

"Will you tell me about them?"

Miranda regarded Andy for what seemed a long while before answering. When she did, her voice was soft and unfamiliar.

"I wasn't born a gypsy, Andrea." Blue eyes swivelled to lock with her own. "As an infant I was given to the care of a nomadic family, part of a much larger tribe and was raised as their own. I was taught the art of pen dukkerin as a child and when I was old enough, I used it as a way to make money for my family. My mother sold herself like many other women in the tribe, and I knew that I would never allow that type of shame to rob me of my dignity."

Miranda swallowed, her eyes flickering to the ceiling of the caravan. "When I was sixteen, my father became interested in me...not in a way a father should be interested in his daughter. After several incidents, I knew that my options had worn thin. I could stay and give myself over in defeat, or I could leave. So I gathered the meager coin I had and a deck of tarot cards, and left."

Miranda's gaze met Andy's and Andy felt the understanding bleed between them. "I met the twins, father, ironically, at a sideshow," Miranda continued, a hint of amusement blending into her tone.

"He was merely a talker -- and talk he did. Before I knew it, I was redressing behind a tent and saying my goodbyes. The twins came while I was on the road and I nearly died while giving birth to them inside a filthy wagon. The delivery was done by one of the other girls in the show, and when the proprietor discovered that they were conjoined, I was given top bill in the show. I tried very hard to leave with my girls, to take them away from the spectacle being made of their deformity..."

Miranda paused, then corrected herself, "Of their gift."

Andy wanted to cradle Miranda into her body, to hold her while she spoke the words describing her history, but Miranda's tense shoulders told her to keep her distance. "So what did you do?"

"It wasn't easy, Andrea. I searched for jobs in the neighbouring towns. Everywhere we stopped I inquired in each shop. No one would hire me. They were cowards. I could have done any job with more skill than any of them, but I was never given the chance. So I stayed. I had no choice but to stay because the twins needed food, needed shelter, and it was the only way that I could provide that for them. Crowds adored them. I suppose because they were beautiful, despite being conjoined. They were a visual conundrum."

Miranda licked her lips and cleared her throat. When she spoke again, her voice had hardened. "The girls were seven when the fever hit. They were lucky...they avoided the illness but I was not so fortunate. I nearly died in the sick tent. It was almost a fortnight before I began to recover, but the owners saw me as a threat. They worried that I would infect my daughters and, being so young, they'd die and I'd be the one to live. A diviner is not as precious as a a true freak...so I was sold. I haven't seen them since."

"Didn't you try to fight it?"

"And how would you presume I do that, Andrea?" Miranda snapped, her gaze locked intensely on Andy's. "When I was herded on a cattle cart and chained like a common petty thief, forced to watch the retreating banner that bore my daughters' faces, without even being able to say goodbye." The last word cracked, clearly against her will, and Miranda looked away as she regained her composure.

Andy placed her hand on Miranda's and was surprised not to feel it tense in response.

Miranda shook her head silently, tendrils of silver cascading across her eyes. "I can only hope they remember me."

“I’m sure they remember you. How could they forget a woman like you?”

“That’s kind of you to say.”

“Well it’s true. Don’t cut yourself short. And you made it sound like you had a few allies in the show you were in…the girls have to know what really happened. I’m sure they don’t think you abandoned them.”

“They’re young, Andrea. Rationality is a rare gift amongst adolescent girls. They may know the facts, but who’s to say that they didn’t react just as you did? Who’s to say they don’t feel as though I deserted them?”

“There’s only one way to find out how they do feel, you know. We have to get them back.”

“We are going to do nothing of the sort. I will get them back.”

“If you think I’m going to just sit by and not try to help you, then you’re crazy.”

“So I’ve been told.” Miranda smiled and placed a soft kiss on Andy’s mouth. When she pulled away, she stared into the younger woman’s features as if trying to decipher some deeply hidden meaning.

“What is it?” Andy asked.

“You. I have a hard time believing that you’re real and not something I dreamt up to make the days a little easier to manage.”

Andy's grin spread across her face as she felt her heart swell with the mere knowledge that she meant something, that she was worthwhile. Then she sat up and leaned over Miranda, her fingers delving into the light strands of hair near her brow.

"So, when do we start?" Andy asked and received an almost playful swat against her arm.

Miranda rolled her eyes. “You’re quite the obstinate little thing, aren’t you?”

“Yep.”

“Let’s rest first. It’s going to be a long night.”

\---

As Andy was finishing applying the rouge to her lips, the curtain to her room was whisked open. She looked in the mirror at the reflection of Hattie standing behind her. Her body tensed.

Strength, Andy.

“Where you been?”

“What’s it matter?”

“I’m gonna ask you one more time,” Hattie said, stepping into the small corner of the caravan that Andy called her own. “You disappeared last night and this afternoon. Where’d you go?”

Andy stood, squaring her shoulders and drawing up to her full height. In her boots, Andy was an inch or two taller than Hattie. “And I said it doesn’t matter where I’ve been. I did my chores. I’m doing my work tonight. But after this show is over, I’m no longer sleeping in this sorry excuse for a home.”

"Not sleeping here?" Hattie asked incredulously. "And who do you think you are?"

Andy set her lip and stared defiantly down at the woman that called herself a mother. "I'm Andrea."

Andy felt the crack of Hattie's hand against her cheek followed by the white sting of pain that burned behind her eyes. Her lashes fluttered but Andy channelled the strength she needed and glared at the shorter woman.

Hattie reached forward and Andy flinched for a second round but didn't feel the returning pain of a second blow. Instead, Hattie plucked the tarot card from Andy's corset and held it above her head, shaking the thin card wildly about. "Don't tell me them rumours is true."

"What rumours?" Andy asked, not realizing she was playing right into Hattie's webbed hands.

"About you and that gypsy whore!"

Andy saw red. "Don't. You. Fucking. Dare--"

Hattie's eyes widened at the look in her daughters eyes, but she held tight to the card. "Don't I what, girl? Mmm? Don't I talk down the spook, the dark lady divine? Well, she ain't no lady. That there is a wicked trollop--"

Andy's hand shot up to Hattie's throat and squeezed tight against the older woman's jugular, causing her to gasp for short breaths in a vain attempt to fill her emptying lungs.

Leaning over, Andy stared into Hattie's panicked eyes as she drew close enough to kiss the woman. "If you ever speak of Miranda that way again, I will burn your god damned caravan to the ground," she paused, her fingers tightening on the woman's trachea, forcing her dangerously close to asphyxiation. "With you in it," she spat, snatching the card from Hattie's fingers before pushing the older woman violently to the ground.

She gathered her belongings, what little was worth taking, and was gone from the caravan towards the midway to start another night of ballying and another show.

Her heart raced, her pulse pounded and the card at her chest felt infused with her soul.

\---

Andy’s breath hitched in her chest as she neared the tent of the sideshow in the neighboring town. She chewed her lip nervously, beyond caring about the pain of the cut that was now coated in a thick application of grease.

She’d insisted upon going to the show herself to inquire about the twins, fearing that it would appear suspicious for Miranda to be seen loitering around the tents twice during the span of the day. Miranda had wanted to make the journey with her but Andy was adamant about going alone.

She lingered around near the banners, preparing herself for the conversation she hoped to have.

Beside the open flaps of the tent, a large banner boasted the incredible commodities of the Coxwold and Thickett Sideshow. She inhaled a deep, bracing breath and entered the tent.

An incredibly tall man was sitting at the edge of a stage, his large fingers counting stacks of coins into piles. She watched as he pocketed several of the coins and, gathering her wits, cleared her throat.

“Show’s over I’m afraid,” the man said, his eyes raking over her body.

“I know. I came to see you, Mr…”

“Coxwold,” he added. “And you are?”

“My name’s Andrea Sachs. Perhaps you’ve heard of the Sachs of Spades Traveling Sideshow?”

“I heard of it, yea,” he said. “Pitiful lil show, innit?”

“We’re growing larger every day,” Andy said, taking a large breath. “I’m here to talk about one of your acts.”

“None of ‘em are for sale,” Coxwold admonished. "Y'already bought our resident fat lady." His eyes studied her face, pausing for several seconds at the bruises marring her beautiful features.

Andy nodded softly and stepped closer to the tall man, her eyes curiously travelling the length of the tent. "I was inquiring about that two headed lady of yours."

Coxwold clicked his tongue as a smiled lit his face. "Oh those heavenly creatures! Yes, what a sight to see! Two lovely bodies in one."

Andy bit her tongue and continued calmly, her expression inquisitive and light. "Ah yes... we had a pair of twins just like that in our show once. Until, you know... it happened."

Coxwold's brow rose as he stretched his long fingers across the table to pull another small stack of coins towards him. "It?"

Andy nodded, her eyes wide with a sadness of pantomimic proportions. "You know... it. Oh it was so horrible. It's such a shame that creatures born that way have such a little time on this earth."

Coxwold scratched his head with one crooked finger. "What do you mean?"

Andy shook her head. "You know... the cough. It starts with a cough, and then it turns into a fever that leaves the poor things bedridden. That is until their flesh begins to pock... and then, well you know what happens after that, don't you?"

Coxwold frowned and shook his head.

Andy sighed softly and wiped an invisible tear from her eye. "Well they fall apart, don't they? And then, it's only hours..."

Coxwold stared at Andy for a good long moment before slapping his hand across his knee and shaking his head. "Ahhh that's a good one, lass."

Andy blinked, "Oh... but... I wasn't joking, Mr. Coxwold. I'm surprised you weren't already aware. It always happens to these sort. I merely came to ask if you yourself had discovered a cure yet. You see, having just lost..." Andy stalled, not having thought far enough ahead to have decided false names for these alleged twins, but saved herself by making it appear as though she were too choked up to continue.

Coxwold extended a red silk handkerchief, which she took and loudly blew her nose into. When she went to give it back he lifted his fingers and beckoned her to keep it.

"You see" she continued, ever the ballyhoo, "We are acquiring a new set of twins with the very same gift -- and... I wondered, Mr. Coxwold, if you had a secret to keep them alive for longer? To cure the horrible disease that plagues them. The Kiss of the Devil they call it, and oh what a kiss it is!"

Coxwold scratched at his beard nervously as he listened. "No lass, I've not heard. But my girlies are in fine condition. Not a cough or pock on 'em."

Andy nodded softly and sniffled into the kerchief with great exaggeration. "Well I am pleased to hear it sir. And I hope it is long before you ever see the horrid effects of the kiss of the devil in your tent."

Coxwold nodded and shifted in his seat, clearly agitated as Andy bid him good evening and slipped back outside of the darkened tent. A smile spread across her lips.

The plan was hatched.

\---

Excitement teemed through Andy, motivating her quick return to the caravan. She was tired, to be sure, but she pushed herself, the slightest glint of hope burning within her. It was possible. She may have had a hand in reuniting a mother with her children.

She'd never had a connection with her mother, and she was going to make damn sure that she made it possible for Cassidy and Caroline to have a relationship with theirs. Andy wondered, as she passed through the thick gathering of trees, what it was like to have a mother that fought for her child…that cared about her child's well-being.

She wouldn't allow herself to deaden her spirits thinking about such things. She jumped up the wooden stairs to Miranda's caravan and quickly stowed inside.

"I think we may--" Andy stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes focused on Miranda as she stood beside the bookshelf, applying a poultice to an angry cut on her cheek. "What happened?"

"Your father decided to pay me a visit."

Andy swiftly glided across the room. "What did he do to you?"

"He was looking for you actually," Miranda said, corking the bottle and placing it back on the shelf. "When I wouldn't tell him where you were, he hit me and accused me of hexing you with my dark magic." She snorted. "Charming man, really. It's a shame he didn't have time to stay for tea."

"Miranda."

"I didn’t tell him where you'd gone, though I'd be careful. You mustn't be alone with him. Have one of the others stay close during your chores."

"What about you? That means you'll be alone."

"You mustn't risk neglecting your work, Andrea. I have a very bad feeling about him. There was something in his eye…we have to be careful."

Andy took a few cautious steps forward, peering at the gash along Miranda's cheek. She slumped forward guiltily. "I'm sorry he hurt you, Miranda."

Miranda turned to face Andy. "Don't apologize for him. He isn't worth the breath."

Andy nodded glumly and felt Miranda's hand upon her shoulder. When she looked up, blue orbs were focused upon her, tracing her facial features. Her voice was softer. "One day at a time, Andrea. He will receive what is owed to him in due course." 

Andy smiled sadly and leaned closer to Miranda, placing a kiss next to the red slit marring the beautiful woman's complexion. "Strength."

She was rewarded with a returned smile from the fine-boned gypsy. "Strength."

\---

The following day managed to pass without incident. Andy's friends took shifts in keeping her company. She felt like a queen for a day with guards protecting her from harm.

A queen knee-deep in muck…

Andy couldn't deny enjoying the company. There'd been a time when life in the sideshow was simple and the days passed with something akin to happiness. She remembered the days of her youth when she'd spend free afternoons playing jacks with Nate and sewing rag dolls with Eugenia, the scale-covered woman that served as her nanny. She missed those care-free days of youth, revoked as soon as her breasts swelled and her monthlies began.

As she headed back to Miranda's caravan, Andy reflected upon something Nigel said earlier in the afternoon.

A change is in the air.

She'd always felt that her life would never change, that she'd forever be trapped in this decorated, glitzy cage. She never imagined that a time would come when things would shift of their own accord, as if part of her destiny.

Well, she didn't know if she believed in destiny, but she did believe that something was on the verge of happening whether she was ready or not.

She stepped inside the caravan and smiled at Miranda, who was looking at a spread of tarot cards in front of her.

"Any trouble?" Miranda asked, her lips pursed as she flipped over a colourful card at the end of the spread.

"None. I caught him staring a bit, but I was well surrounded."

"Good. I've laid your dress out for tonight."

"Thank you," Andy said, leaning over Miranda's chair to look at the cards displayed before her. "What do these all mean?" She kissed Miranda's neck.

"These represent the past, present, and future," Miranda explained, her fingers tapping each of the cards. "Here, representing the past, is the five of cups."

Andy studied the card displaying a cloaked figure whose downcast face looked upon five overturned cups. "What does it mean?"

"It expresses sorrow, grief, and disappointment."

"Like how you felt when you lost the twins?"

"Perhaps. Here, in the present, is the seven of cups."

The image of the card displayed a person staring at seven different goblets, each containing a different treasure. "Weird."

Miranda snorted. "It represents choices. And the card representing the future…" Miranda gestured to the inverted card. "The moon."

"Why is it upside down?"

"Inverted cards negate the original meaning of the card. Under normal circumstances, this card would represent using your intuition to carefully navigate a difficult situation. It's a good card, especially for those involved in clandestine love affairs," Miranda added with a grin, kissing Andy's knuckles.

"But since it's upside down?"

"It means there are unforeseen troubles lurking in the shadows."

Andy's hands found the dips in Miranda's shoulders as she pressed her fingers in to the tense muscles. "Great."

Miranda's neck canted backwards to allow her to look up into Andy's eyes. "Don't be so grave, Andrea. We live and work in a sideshow. It would be more of an astonishment if the path ahead was clear and un-guarded."

Andy couldn't help but smile as she buried her nose into Miranda's silken hair. The gypsy's perfume filled her senses an Andy felt her stomach shudder and sigh in rapt delight. To keep herself distracted, Andy detached herself from Miranda and crossed to the phonograph sitting on the small table near the bookshelf.

A dark record sat within it and its needle was raised just above. Andy looked towards Miranda as she began to meticulously gather up the cards and with a wicked grin, lifted the needle and set it on the record. Then she wound up the side as quickly as she could, stirring Miranda from her task.

"I don't think so, Andrea."

Andy's full lips formed a mock-pout. "Oh please! I bet you're a wonderful dancer!"

"Absolutely not."

Andy crossed to Miranda and latched on to her wrist, pulling the older woman to her feet as scratchy, grainy music began tainting the air. Miranda couldn't hide the small smile that graced her lips but she moved a few paces away to place the packet of cards back in their box. Andy was about to reach for her when she noticed Miranda's hips roll smoothly in place, drawing a wide grin.

Miranda's body was like a secluded temple, concealed from most and only ever truly available to its chosen worshipper. Andy loved being that worshipper.

Her eyes focused on the sway of Miranda's hips as they swivelled and rolled in time with the seductive gyspy music, floating along the air. Miranda's hands lifted in the air exotically above her, the wrists and slim fingers extending and contorting in wildly sensual ways as she closed her eyes and gracefully ebbed with its flow.

Andy was drawn like a moth to the flame, stepping hypnotically towards Miranda with attentive eyes and a watering mouth. Andy felt Miranda's hands lower upon her hips and her lashes parted to reveal darkened blue irises, sparkling intensely she drew Andy in both factually and figuratively. Pressing their midsections together, Miranda guided Andy's hips with her own as they moved against one another in perfect tandem to the swelling music enslaving them.

Cheek to cheek, breast to breast, hip to hip and pelvis to pelvis.

Andy let out an unhurried sigh as she allowed herself to be guided by the music, her eyes closed in rapturous delight. She felt as though she were standing in the middle of a fire, her body tingling as Miranda's hips sensually gyrated against hers.

Miranda then stepped behind Andy, her hands guiding Andy's hips flush against her own. She raised Andy's hands over her head and swiped her own down the length of her body. She shuddered. Andy tipped her head back against Miranda's shoulder, moaning as Miranda's hands began to roam the front of her body. She felt as though she were being played like a fine instrument. When Miranda's fingers passed over the curves of Andy's breasts, she let out a melodious cry.

"I don't know what it is that you're doing to me," Miranda said, her voice throaty and low, "but I can't get enough of you."

"I put a spell on you," Andy responded, capturing Miranda's mouth with her own. Their tongues danced along with their bodies and, when neither could stand the inaccessibility of their position, Andy spun around.

"I need to see you," Andy groaned. Her fingers moved as if possessed, undoing the laces and ties of Miranda's clothes. She made quick work of the dress and corset, stripping her bare. "Oh…" was all Andy could say as her eyes settled upon her naked form.

Miranda's skin was lustrously pale save for the splotches of color that rose in response to Andy's stares. She was exquisite.

She never imagined that she'd be so starved for another human being. She never knew that it could be like this, that she could become addicted to the very essence of another woman.

Andy backed Miranda to the table, reaching around her to swipe its contents to the floor. The clatter of a pan, the cracking of a cup, and the fluttering of cards echoed around them. Miranda's eyes flashed, dark and hungry, as Andy pressed her back against the table.

Below Andy, Miranda curved backwards, her hips undulating against Andy's pelvis as she felt the gypsy's shoulder blades grind against the wood. Her fingers caressed their way up one slender leg until it swayed between Miranda's legs and separated the thighs. When her fingertips found the slick folds of Miranda's sex she hesitated, committing to memory the sight of Miranda laying wanton beneath her and completely free of clothing.

"Yes," Miranda breathed, the pleading want an overtone as she writhed in desperation.

But Andy didn't give Miranda what she wanted. Instead, Andy lowered herself to her knees before the table, hooking her arms under Miranda's flushed thighs. Her head bowed forward and Andy felt her tongue instinctively slip past her lips to taste what was being offered so abundantly to her. Miranda cried out and Andy knew in that moment that when she died, that that sound would be the last thing she wanted to hear.

Having had no experience in the ways of pleasuring a woman orally, Andy found herself shaking both with excitement and nerves as her tongue meekly shifted against Miranda's sex.

However, whether she wanted to admit it or not, Andy was a Sachs, and that meant she expected nothing but perfection.

Resting her hooked arm atop Miranda's mound, she used her fingers to part Miranda's slick, swollen folds, revealing the fleshy pink center to her eager gaze. She was wet and quivering and Andy's mouth dropped slightly as she took it all in. She'd never forget this and would never, ever match this level of beauty throughout the remainder of her life.

She blew lightly, delighting at the sight of Miranda's hardened nub contracting slightly. She could hear Miranda sighing and whispering indistinguishable phrases.

Andy began to lick her then, using the flat of her tongue to swipe broadly at Miranda's sex. She collected the bittersweet essence against her tongue and hummed in delight as she rolled the taste around her mouth. She went at it again, this time swirling her tongue around Miranda's bundle of nerves and her entrance. Her entire body throbbed when Miranda bucked against her.

"Please..."

Holding Miranda's hips firmly to the table, Andy took her time, ignoring Miranda's incessant pleas to go faster and harder. Change was in the air and Andy was not about to walk blindly into that change without having savoured every inch of Miranda first.

Savouring every aching second, Andy revelled in the taste and texture, letting small moans of desire pass along her lips to tremble against the sensitive flesh. She was intoxicated by the sheer eroticism of it all.

Her every desire seemed to be unfolding before her and Andy was slayed so easily by its majesty. It was such a new feeling, to be so overcome with want and need that delved past the mundane to that absolute extraordinary.

She was a different woman than the shy girl of only several days prior. The shy girl who followed the poor gypsy like a lonely lost puppy, scratching at her door and trying to find excuses to merely exist in her presence.

Now as she extended the pointed tip of her tongue and dipped it deeply into molten sea of lust that hid between soft folds, she could not imagine life before it.

How had she gone on breathing without it?

Miranda’s body tensed beneath her and Andy knew that the gypsy was nearing a powerful release. The muscles in her thighs clenched and caught Andy’s shoulders in a vice grip as her moans became more strangled, choked by both a lack of oxygen and a racing heart.

And then, as Andy made one last luxurious swirl with her tongue, Miranda’s hips bucked against her and her wrist flew up to shield her eyes. Andy grinned proudly and attempted to gather more of the nectar that she had duly earned but was pushed away by closing thighs.

“No – I couldn’t…” Miranda was flushed, her breath unsteadily inflating and deflating her chest. “Too much--”

Andy’s eyes widened as she climbed unsteadily to her feet and leaned over her victim proudly, her lashes batting as a sly smile swelled buoyantly across her features. “I did that, huh?”

Miranda’s weak grunt was response enough.

Andy's body throbbed pleasantly, though her own need was eclipsed by Miranda's potent afterglow. She leant down and placed a kiss on the soft flesh above Miranda's hip bone. Miranda shivered and Andy made a note to return to that place in the future.

"I...you..." Miranda stammered. She heaved herself to a sitting position. "I will return that lovely favour."

"Hold that thought," Andy replied, kissing Miranda gently on the lips. She allowed herself a moment of savouring Miranda's mouth before pulling back. "You have to get into town."

"Are you turning down a chance to be with me?"

Andy giggled. "Shocking, ain't it?"

"And more than a little disappointing."

"Let's make a deal then, shall we? You go into town now and make sure you get to the twins, and when you get back tonight I'll let you do anything to me that you want."

"Anything?"

Andy nodded enthusiastically.

"You're going to regret making this deal," Miranda said mischievously. Andy giggled.

"I hope so."

"You're quite the insatiable nymph."

"Well come on. Can you blame me?"

Miranda looked down her nose pompously. "I suppose not."

\---

As Andy took a look at herself in the caravan mirror, she couldn't keep the smile off her face. Her eyes went to the reflection of her lips and she remembered when she'd pressed them between Miranda's thighs. A shiver ran the length of her spine and back and Andy had to close her eyes for several focusing seconds to remember the task at hand.

Miranda had dressed and left not long after their impromptu session that had left the caravan in a bit of a disarray. After cleaning up the littered items and fixing the leg on the table that had come loose, Andy had gotten herself ready for the evening performance.

Knots formed in her stomach when she thought of the evening's plan. Miranda would not be appearing in that night's performance. Gershin had yet to become privy to that small little fact and in the state he'd been in for past few days it most likely meant that he would be ruthless. She could handle it though. She could take whatever he had to give if it meant that Miranda would be reuniting with her daughters even if it was just from afar. Miranda would be in the audience of that night's performance of Coxwold and Thickett Sideshow.

She had wished so badly to be privy to that reunion, to have seen Miranda's face as she looked into the eyes of the two daughters that had been born of her own blood. It would be a rightful reunion of souls separated by the heinous and darker workings of the sideshow world and Andy was proud to have a hand in righting that wrong.

She dipped the tip of her brush into the garish, blood red grease paint and slicked it across the bows of her lips. Then she pressed her lips together and lifted her breasts in the corset. Miranda had instilled a confidence in her that she had never had before. She almost wanted to display her body, to flaunt it for the greedy eyes of the paying marks and then to revel in the fact that she belonged in body and soul to the Divine. It made her goosepimply to think of it.

Without another glance spared to her reflection, Andy closed the caravan door firmly behind her and set off to the midway.

\---

To Andy's utter surprise, the show went off without a hitch. Gershin obviously noted Miranda's disappearance, but he didn't make reference to it. Instead he skipped by her introduction and moved along to the other performers. It was as if she'd never even been in the show at all. Not a sneer or scathing remark was sent in Andy's direction and when it came time for the blow-off it was Serena the Snake Enchantress that stepped behind the curtain to show the men what else she could make rise on command.

Once the rubes left and the tent flaps were tied securely in place, Andy made her way back to Miranda's caravan, eager to await her return. Perhaps she would already be there.

Her steps were quick as she crossed the tall grass that surrounded the forest's edge and she weaved easily between the trees and off of the beaten path until she arrived at it. A candle lit the inside and Andy grinned, her steps becoming lighter as her heart picked up the pace. There would be so much to hear and so much to tell and there was also the seductive promise that Miranda had made earlier. She smiled as she approached the caravan and leaned forward so that her breasts could spill forth more enticingly for the lady inside.

With her hand at the hem of her skirt, she hiked it up above her knee on one side to show off a slender thigh, and tousled the back of her hair before pulling the caravan door open and slinking seductively inside.

"Tell me all about it." she sensually purred as she leaned against the closed caravan door.

"I was about to ask you the same thing," Gershin growled, his eyes narrowed in blatant fury, his hands in fists in the middle of the ransacked room.

Andy's eyes flicked to the chaos around them. He'd upturned tables and bookshelves. Books and clothes were scattered everywhere. Bottles were smashed on the ground, their contents seeping into the floorboards. The mattress had been flipped. Any semblance of a comfortable, tidy living space was destroyed.

"What did you do in here?"

Gershin's eyes flashed triumphantly. "Shoulda set fire to the damn thing," he said, kicking a large red candle out of the way as he stepped closer to Andy. "Where's your witch?"

"She's not here."

"I know that!" he yelled, the back of his hand smacking hard across her cheek. She felt her skin tear as his prized gold and ruby encrusted ring connected with her cheekbone. "I'm sick of your lip, girl. Now you tell me where that hag's gone to."

"I won't tell you anything," Andy replied defiantly, taking a step back. She balled her fists as if preparing to fight back, though she had never struck another person in her life.

"So it's true then? Taking up with her, are you? Like you're some sort of invert?"

Andy's cheeks flushed, telling Gershin all he needed to know.

"You're just as bad as the rest o' them freaks," he snarled, taking a step closer. "I should put you on display."

"You already do." She backed up and, unable to see the mess directly behind her, fell over an upturned chair.

"Ungrateful little..."

What exactly Andy was she never learned, for he chose that moment to kick her forcefully in the stomach. She cried out, doubling over in pain. Before she could get her bearings, he kicked her again.

"I knew something was wrong with you," he growled, grinding the heel of his boot into her chest. He rolled her over to her back and pressed down on her breastbone. Tears streamed down her face. "Moment you were born you were different. We shoulda sold you when we had the chance. Where. Is. The. Witch?"

"Fuck....you..." Andy managed, pain seizing her body. She felt as though she were dying.

Gershin screamed then, picking up the chair beside her hip and throwing it across the room. She heard the faint smashing of glass. He raged on, destroying what little remained intact and it wasn't until he paused and was silent that Andy grew concerned. She struggled to sit upright, a wave of nausea hitting her strongly. Her eyes opened, one of them blackened, and focused on him where he stood, holding the Coxwold and Thickett bill. Her heart sank.

Gershin scrubbed at his wiry beard. The air was heavy with silence, the eye of the storm having settled upon them. Andy could see the paper flickering in his hand and saw his cheeks burning with anger as his eyes flicked over the page in a repetitive motion.

Then, the eye seemed to lift in one strangled moment as Gershin flew towards her, lifting her by the collar of her gown. He shook her hard and thrust the crumpled bill towards her. "Lookin' for better opportunities is she?"

When Andy didn't answer, Gershin took another glance at the paper and Andy watched the confusion and anger dissolve into a look of disbelief. But all too soon, his cheeks reddened and Gershin leaned forward. Andy unfocused on the bill as it swerved closer to her vision and watched as it was stuffed down the front of Gershin's show coat. His voice was threateningly low. "She's found em' has she? She fucking found the little bitches."

There was another firm kick to her side that expelled the air from her lungs and left her gasping for breath as her fingers made short work of her own corset strings to loosen them against the tightening in her ribs. Still her eyes narrowed. "Fo... found them?"

Gershin's eyes were beady and large and he'd begun to sweat profusely along his hairline. "Hattie warned me about keeping put after we'd found out they were the gypsy's. She said we ought to cut the loss, go with the fat lady and be on our way." He paused and wiped his sleeve across his brow. "But the bloody witch found em."

Andy heard his shoes scuffling across the floorboards and she tried to sit up but laid back down when stars speckled her sight.

From the door of the caravan, Gershin half-spoke and half-growled, "She won't get away with it, girl. Mark my word. I've got her signature to a contract binding her to this show for two more years yet. If she tries anything, I'll have them cart her away and locked up for breaking it. The law'll be on my side. They never trust those goddamned gypsies anyway. Thieves, liars and whores - every one of 'em. I'll be damned if that spook doesn't get the punishment she deserves."

A slamming door was the last thing Andy heard before she slipped into darkness, the sounds of reality barely existing in the distance.

\---

Andy wasn't sure how long she'd been lying on the floor of the caravan. She felt as though she were becoming part of the woodwork. As a spider crept its way along the wood beside her, she found herself unable to even conjure the typical fear that the eight-legged creatures tended to inspire within her.

The world might as well have been ending. Gershin and Hattie had known about the twins, known that they were only a mile down the road from their mother, but chose to keep it to themselves. Rather than reunite the family and capitalize on each of their gifts, they chose to keep them apart.

Her body ached. She could feel blood trickling from open wounds and bruises staining her flesh.

What's more, her heart ached.

Miranda. She was scared for Miranda.

She had no idea where Gershin had gone. What if he had met Miranda in the forest? What if he had decided to take his anger out upon her as well? What if he killed her?

Emotion swelled within her but she couldn't move, couldn't utilize her energized soul to motivate her body into motion.

Gershin wouldn't kill Miranda…he couldn't. He said himself that she was too valuable of an asset. But Andy had also never seen him so crazed, so wild. He could be capable of anything.

A rustling in the brush outside caused her to hold her breath and close her eyes. Please don't be him. Please…

Lighter steps on the caravan stairs and a slowly opening door suggested otherwise. The sound of a feminine gasp confirmed it. Only then did her chest release as she blinked to clear her vision. When she focused, Miranda was kneeling beside her, stroking her cheek as she worriedly scanned Andy's face for signs of consciousness.

"Fuck," Miranda hissed, brushing Andy's hair from her forehead to assess the injury.

Andy smiled lopsidedly and winced at even the slight movement. "Love to."

Miranda clucked her tongue and didn't even reward her with an eye roll for her little joke. Instead she disappeared out of sight, the sounds of furniture scraping and papers spilling to the floor made Andy wonder just what the gypsy was doing. But it wasn't long before Miranda returned and slid her arm under Andy's waist in an attempt to lift her. Andy's face contorted painfully as Miranda helped her to the newly-righted bed and made sure that she was nestled neatly within the mess of blankets.

"That fucking bastard," Miranda muttered, her skin as white as a sheet as she loosened Andy's dress.

Andy's brows knit together despite the pain. "He knows."

Miranda didn't seem to hear her as she helped Andy out of her dress and it wasn't until Andy placed a hand on Miranda's wrist to stop her, did the older woman meet her eyes.

"He knows," Andy repeated gravely.

Miranda stared, blue eyes flickering over hers. "He knows?"

Andy's tongue moistened her cracked lip. "The twins... that they're y... yours."

A flicker of worry gleamed in Miranda's eyes, though she focused on the task of undressing Andy as if to distract her from noticing. When Andy was stripped bare and the cool air of the room was prickling her skin, Andy grasped Miranda by the shoulders. "This is a big deal."

"I know," Miranda whispered, wetting a cloth in a basin of cool water and pressing it to the bruises on Andy's stomach. "I understand the seriousness of the situation. But right now, we have to patch you up."

"We have to figure out what we're going to do, Miranda. If he knows, he could--"

"He could do anything, whether he knew or not. He's made that fact perfectly clear."

"Well, he does know, and we know he knows. So what are we going to do to stop him from doing something crazy?"

Miranda continued soothing the cool cloth over Andy's body. She was quiet for a moment before responding. "We’re going to have to get them out of there."

"Where will they go? We can't bring them here. He could kill them."

Miranda winced at the words and dabbed the rag rather harshly at Andy's hip. She cried out. "I'm sorry."

"What happened with them? Did you see them? Did you get to pass them the message?"

Andy's heart clenched as she saw Miranda's features soften. "Yes. I saw them. They're so big now. I can hardly believe that they're mine."

When Miranda grew wistfully quiet and paid her attentions to Andy's cheek, Andy prodded for more information.

"They saw me, though they've been taught well enough to keep their expressions guarded. I was able to slip them a note. I…I got to touch Caroline's hand. My baby's hand…"

Andy watched Miranda's eyes gloss over, coated with tears that the gypsy refused to let fall. They clung desperately to her dark lashes, threatening to spill over the tiny edge and down along Miranda's pale cheek. Andy wished that they would.

But Miranda blinked the moisture away and swivelled her eyes, focusing back on Andy's wounds. "They know what to do next. We have a limited amount of time to do this. I will go tomorrow--"

"We!" Andy interrupted.

The glare Miranda affixed her with made her tremble. "I, Andrea. You are hardly in any condition to--"

"Miranda! I'll be fine. I just need to rest! Please... you need me." Andy's lip quivered and she found herself unable to hold back the large droplets of moisture that ran down her temples and wet her hairline.

Miranda's glare melted away to a pensive smile that ghosted gently across her features. She leaned over then, placing a gentle kiss to the side of Andy's eye, her tongue flicking across her own lip to collect the salty residue.

"We will see how you are tomorrow," Miranda reasoned, dropping the wet cloth on the nightstand and casting her gaze across the destroyed caravan. "And then we shall decide."

\---

Andy and Miranda rose at dawn, quickly preparing themselves for the difficult task ahead of them. Andy could tell that Miranda was agitated and anxious and, despite the pain that wracked her body, resolutely decided that she would not allow Miranda to make this journey on her own. She put on a brave face, swallowed her gasps of pain when Miranda inspected the damage done to her body, and eagerly wolfed down a fortifying breakfast.

As Miranda busied herself with gathering a mess of food, blankets, and various items to bring to the girls, Andy snuck out of the caravan and headed to the main camp. She felt as though she were on a suicide mission. Her ribs ached every time she inhaled and, with that thought to brace her, Andy prepared herself for her mission.

She wished she had thought to kiss Miranda before she left. She had no idea whether she'd made it back in one piece.

Outside her parents' caravan, Andy toed off her boots and crept quietly inside. She stopped as soon as she had gotten within the dark, dank wagon, staring at the sleeping forms of Hattie and Gershin. She grimaced at the sight of them. Hattie's nightie was torn and falling off her body, exposing her back. Gershin's pants hung off one of his ankles and he snored loudly, his face tucked under his yellowed pillow.

She quietly crept to the counter, using her hairpin to pick at the lock of the till kept on the shelf. It opened with ease. She would be forever grateful to Doug for teaching her how to do it.

She slowly eased up the lid of the box and stared at the glistening pile of coins, mesmerized by the wealth contained before her eyes.

Gershin grunted and shifted on the bed.

Andy hurriedly began to grab fistfuls of coins, tucking them into the pockets of her gown. She was careful and quiet.

When her dress sagged with the weight of wealth, she closed the till, secured the lock, and crept out the door, pressing a hand to her pockets to keep them from hitting her body as she walked.

It wasn't until Andy was standing outside of the caravan that she allowed herself to breathe again. She quickly jumped into her boots and swiftly ran back to Miranda's.

Miranda looked up from her bundle when Andy bustled into the door. "Where did you go? I didn't even realize you'd left."

"Getting reinforcements," Andy said with a grin.

When Miranda's brow rose, Andy wiggled her hands in her pockets to produce a chinking noise as the coins clicked and rattled therein. Miranda smiled and crossed towards her, sliding her hands around her waist. Andy felt breathless at the proximity, as she found she often did whenever her skin contacted Miranda's. Their lips sought one another's and they enjoyed a gentle kiss.

"We must hurry." Miranda crossed towards the carpet bag and lifted it by its wooden handle, "If we leave now we should be back before the night's performance."

Andy nodded and tried to relieve Miranda of the bag, but Miranda held tight to it. Andy sighed dramatically. "I'll be fine, Miranda; stop looking at me like that."

Miranda's eyes rolled over in their sockets and Andy felt a nudge at the small of her back, edging her towards the door.

But just as she was pulling it open, she remembered something and slipped past Miranda. "Oh! I almost forgot."

Miranda watched as Andy moved aside a pile of unsorted papers and picked up a card. When she crossed by Miranda, she held it up for the gypsy to see. Strength was written upon it.

Miranda's lips curved into a patronizing smile which quickly became a genuine one and the two women set off through the forest towards the bridled mare and stallion awaiting them.  
Andy raised an eyebrow at the sight of the horses.

"Just reinforcements," Miranda quipped with a grin as she climbed onto the horse. Andy followed suit and soon they were riding together into town.

She couldn't have asked for a more beautiful morning. The golden rays of the sun kissed the fields beside which they rode. She looked at Miranda, watching as the gypsy's hair whipped around in the breeze, and found herself unable to stop a grin from spreading across her face. There, for one single, beautiful moment, she was undeniably happy.

"What?" Miranda called, catching Andy's face.

"You're beautiful!" Andy called back and, before she could allow Miranda to respond, she tucked her heels into the horse's hips and sprang ahead.

They'd reached the town in no time at all. They tethered the horses nearby, not wanting to draw immediate attention to themselves. Andy prepared to set off for the large tent and Miranda began to follow.

"Wait."

"We're wasting time, Andrea."

"You look too…you. You need to look like a doctor so they don't immediately recognize you."

Biting the inner flesh of her cheek, Andy whipped a handkerchief out of her pocket and around Miranda's hair.

"A hankie is going to distinguish me as a doctor?" Miranda asked, an eyebrow raised.

Andy blushed. "You've got a bit of a signature look going on, Miranda. You don't see many women with hair like yours."

"Fine. Now go."

Andy walked ahead, turning slightly to say, "Let me do all the talking." She smiled when Miranda pursed her lips. "You just hate not being in control, don't you?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Trust me, Miranda. I can do this. When we leave here, it'll be with your girls."

When Andy turned around to face forward and enter the tent, she collided with a man who was not Coxwold.

This man was a great deal shorter and was as stout as a pot-bellied big. His nose even turned up similarly and he breathed heavily as though each breath were a struggle of epic proportions. His voice was low and rumbly but his cheeks were red and his green eyes twinkled with an air of mischief. "Watch yer feet there, pretty miss."

Andy played the part of the innocent country girl with the talent of a true thespian. "I am very sorry. How clumsy of me, Sir. I do hope you can forgive me."

"Not a problem miss," the man regarded her through the oily lenses of his round spectacles and adjusted them with one finger. "Have you come to see the great sideshow of Coxwold and Thickett?"

Andy looked up at the banners as if she'd never before seen such a sight. "It looks fascinating! I would love to, but my father and mother want me back home soon. I won't be able to come back for it."

The man's smile grew and Andy could tell that this was just the sort of thing he had hoped. "Well miss, you are looking at Mr. Thickett himself. And I do think I might be able to give you my own little personal tour of the show, if that would please a pretty little girl like yourself."

Andy smiled as largely as was physically possible and batted her doe lashes. "You really mean it?"

Thickett's eyes moved up and down her body, greedily accessing it. He nodded. "Aye, I mean it, miss."

With one tug at the tent flap, Mr. Thickett pulled the material back enough to let Andy proceed him inside the tent. Thickett followed behind, his hand brushing 'accidentally' against the back of her skirt as he closed the flap behind them.

Andy cast a glance over her shoulder, watching as the flaps of the tent closed in front of Miranda. She held her breath, feeling much more nervous without the older woman close by, but knew better than to let it show.

"I tried coming a few days back," Andy said, adding a pout to her lip, "but I had missed the show entirely. And I've heard so much about it too!"

"Ah, have yeh?"

Andy nodded enthusiastically. "Especially about the two-headed freak you've got. People rave about their beauty."

"As well they should! How'd you like to see them for yourself?"

"Really? You mean it?"

"Course! Step right through here, pretty miss."

Andy grimaced as his hand brushed her dress once again and she skipped ahead a step, staying just out of reach.

"They're right through there. Go on, see 'em for yourself."

Andy stepped across a rope and under the beam of heavy curtains into a dark room. The candles had not been lit but Andy noticed several lanterns hanging about. It was eerily dark still, a sad depressing area that looked a lot worse than the conditions they all lived in at the Sachs of Spades.

She could see a large cage in front of her, its bars rising like silver columns, rusting near the joints between floor and roof. Andy peered inside but it was too dark to see any faces. "I don't see them, Mr. Thickett," she rasped, though her mouth had gone dry.

He waddled forward and grinned at Andy. "Watch 'ere, miss." His hand slammed against the bars and Andy watched as two faces came into view.

Four blue eyes blinked and narrowed at her beneath manes of fiery red hair. Mr. Thickett grinned. Andy couldn't help but see Miranda's own face in theirs. They were their mother personified. It actually startled her and she found that she was at a loss for words. When she managed to pull her eyes away from them and towards Mr. Thickett, who peered at her expectantly, she blinked back the stinging moisture that had oddly appeared in her eyes. "They are beautiful."

"They ain't got nothin' on you, miss," Mr. Thickett wheezed and then lifted a small stick from beside the cage, prodding one girl on the arm.

Both girls hissed, one batting the stick away.

"Well say 'ello to the lady. Where is your manners?"

Both girls focused upon her but said nothing. Finally, Mr. Thickett's patience grew thin. "Oh well, let's press on shall we?"

Andy nodded and let Thickett cross behind her towards the door. With both girls' eyes still upon her, she slid her fingers down the front of her corset and pulled out a card briefly to flash at the girls before tucking it back inside.

The twins' blue eyes lit up and their lips pulled into the splitting image of Miranda's smile.

Andy crept as slowly behind Thickett as possible, an overwhelming sense of relief flooding her when she heard the faintest cough coming from the cage.

"What was that?" Andy asked, grabbing Thickett by his arm.

"Just a cough. Nothing to be alarmed about." He tugged her forward. "You're gonna love our Alligator Girl…"

Both twins began to cough uncontrollably and Andy, suppressing a grin, went back to their cage, watching as a one of the twins stowed a wet cloth beneath their lumpy mattress. She could see the sheen of moisture that was coating their bared skin, easily passing for sweat.

"This isn't just a cough," Andy said, reaching her arm through the bars. She pressed her hand to each of their foreheads. "Sir, they're burning up! Do you mean to tell me that Coxwold didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"About the Kiss of the Devil! He made no mention of it afflicting your girls!"

"He never said a word…" Thickett replied, his gruff face looking worried. "Let me just…" Thickett waddled off.

Andy pressed her face to the bars. "You're doing great!"

"Is our mother with you?"

"She's outside. I'm Andy. Which one is which?"

"Caroline," said the twin on the left.

"Cassidy," unnecessarily chirped the twin on the right. 

"We're getting you out of here today but you have to be as sick as possible. Can you do that?"

One of the twins nodded exuberantly. "We're professionals."

Andy beamed down at them. "I think they're coming back. Remember, cough…mention that you've got pocks in unseen places…be feverish."

When Coxwold and Thickett came barrelling into the tent, Andy jumped away from the cage and watched as the twins took over.

Expertly and with the professionalism of true theatrical performers, Caroline and Cassidy began the bally.

Cassidy stumbled forward and Caroline swayed with her as their hips jutted forward.

"Ohhhhh....." Cassidy rasped as she went into a mock-heaving fit, as if she were about to lose the contents of her stomach. Caroline broke into a coughing fit and did an accurate impression of Mr. Thickett after a yard dash. They choked, they gasped, and they rumbled. Cassidy even managed to froth at the mouth a little, while Coxwold and Thickett went into panic. Their faces were grave and Andy grabbed each one of them by the sleeve of their dusty coats. "We need a doctor! I'll go fetch one!"

Coxwold nodded grimly and Thickett began pacing as Andy fled the tent. Her skirt billowed around her as she dashed outside into the sunny afternoon, scanning the area for Miranda. When she didn't see her she placed her thumb and finger between her lips and whistled.

Miranda appeared near the edge of the brush and hurried over. The carpet bag did look as though it doubled for a doctor's bag, and the scarf around Miranda's head concealed her silvery white hair. Her nose and eyes were still incredibly distinguishable but Andy hoped that the excitement of the twins' alleged illness would do the trick.

"I am not a horse," Miranda said thickly as Andy bustled up to her.

"I know but…I couldn't find you!"

"At any rate…what's going on in there?"

"Oh Miranda….they're brilliant!"

Miranda's face flushed with pride. "As they should be since they're my offspring."

Andy rolled her eyes. "It's show time. They're doing they're bit and I said I'd find a doctor. I think they're buying it."

"Well, we'll soon find out, won't we? Lead the way."

Andy squeezed Miranda's hand as she pulled her into the tent, leading the way into the back of where the twins were kept. Coxwold and Thickett were staring at the twins in horror.

"Have at it, Doc," Coxwold said, gesturing at the twins. Andy watched as Miranda controlled her features and gave off the air of an impartial doctor.

"I cannot look them over if they are caged like animals," Miranda snapped coldly. "Kindly unlock the bars."

Thickett did as he was told, his fat fingers shaking with nerves as he slid the key into the lock. He held it open and allowed Miranda to pass.

Andy watched as Miranda entered the tiny cell, each of her hands pressing to a forehead. She had no idea how Miranda had found the strength not to take them in her arms and hug them.

Miranda tsked as she turned Cassidy's head around, opening her eyelids and peering into them. She nudged at her chin and opened her mouth. "Hmm."

"What's it looking like, Doc?" Thickett asked. 

Miranda tsked under her breath once more and then repeated her actions with Caroline. Both Thickett and Coxwold looked so nervous that they were practically clinging to one another. Thickett's pursuit of pretty-little-thing Andy was completely forgotten.

Andy could see the girls' wide-eyed stares as they looked at their mother up close, her hands upon their faces, their arms. The depravity they must have felt after going for years without seemed almost cured when she saw Cassidy's free hand snake around Miranda's waist from behind. Andy watched from the side and could only see an obscure smile as it was afforded to her daughters. Then Miranda stepped back and exited the cage, Coxwold reaching one long arm to close it behind her. His other fingers were splayed across the lower part of his face as though he might inhale the devil's kiss and die too.

"They are not long for this world, I'm afraid." Miranda spoke gravely, her voice quiet as she lowered her head in mournful disappointment.

Coxwold actually let out a wail and Thickett patted his partner on the small of his back, the furthest up he could reach.

"You know..." Andy sighed softly, "I know this must be very tough on you both. I remember the loss of our own twins, like it was..." Andy held back a fake sob, "yesterday."

Coxwold turned teary eyes towards her and nodded. Thickett adjusted his spectacles.

Miranda interrupted, Andy noting the gypsy's patience not really outlasting the delicacy of the spectacle, "Perhaps, you would consider allowing the girls to be tested, to find a cure for this fatal illness for poor condemned twins in the future."

Coxwold wiped a fat tear from the ball of his nose and looked at Thickett. Thickett frowned. "Tested on? Well I don't think --"

"Oh what a thoughtful idea doctor!" Andy cried, rushing up to Thickett and rubbing against him as she pulled him into a hug. "Wouldn't that be wonderful, Mr. Thickett?" she looked at the taller man next, "Mr. Coxwold?"

Both looked between one another and then at Andy, unsure of what to do.

Andy cast a glance at Miranda and wiggled her eyebrows. Miranda's distraction by the twins almost led her to miss the signal but when she saw it, she spoke, her shoulders squared in determination. "Mr. Coxwold, Mr Thickett, I would be glad to pay you a small sum for your troubles. I feel that this is a very important study and this is the only reason why I am able to offer payment at all. It won't of course be what they were worth when they were in health, you'll understand. But you both will be doing a noble service to the field of--" Miranda paused, her eyes flashing as she thought of something, "Conjoinecular Meticulitus."

Andy's eyes widened as she looked at Miranda and she shook her head in disbelief at the older woman. Miranda just glared a hole through the center of her forehead.

"We'll have to give it a great deal of thought," Mr. Coxwold said, his eyes flicking back and forth between the twins. "They could recover…"

"There is no chance of recovery. Your hopes are fruitless."

"How long do they have?"

"Not long at all," Andy mentioned. "Our twins…they lasted only a week or two. It was horrible. They couldn't perform…they couldn't eat or anything. It was dreadful." She wiped an invisible tear.

Thickett looked at Miranda to confirm. Miranda nodded.

"It would be best to remove them immediately. It's possible that they may infect your other performers."

Both men's eyebrows shot upwards. "But, you said this was just a Siamese thing!" Coxwold stammered.

"In my research," Miranda continued, "I've found that those of weaker immune systems, that is to say, those who possess physiological gifts that make them fit for sideshows...they are just as likely to fall ill."

Andy clapped her hand to her mouth. "Oh! That explains so much…"

"What's that you say?" Thickett asked.

"You sold us Mammoth Martha, didn't you? She's…she's taken so ill lately. She hasn't been able to be shown because she's been bed ridden."

The two men quickly looked at each other and turned their backs, murmuring quietly amongst themselves as they considered their alternatives. Andy shot Miranda a furtive glance and Miranda subtly nodded.

"We're prepared to make you a deal," Coxwold said.

"How's about five and fifty a head," Thickett said, his pudgy finger pushing the wire frame of his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Andy could tell that even talking about putting a price on her daughters' heads made Miranda seething mad, but the gypsy did a very good job at holding her tongue.

Miranda looked at the girls and back at the two men. "Surely you jest, gentleman, for I would hate to have to tell the towns I travel through that the Coxwold and Thickett Sideshow is run by heartless, money-obsessed criminals."

Coxwold scratched his chin. "Eight for the pair?"

"Five."

"Done!" Thickett grabbed Miranda's hand and shook it forcefully. "Just get them out of here quickly!"

Once the coins were exchanged, they were out of the tent in a hurry, Coxwold still covering his face as his long legs carried him in quick sprints down the lane and Thickett waddling comically behind.

Miranda didn't watch them as her focus was set on closing the distance between herself and her daughters. Andy heard the chink of the cage and looked towards it just in time to see Miranda's arms spread around her girls, their heads nestling into their mother's shoulder, smelling her perfume-- a scent that had gone missed for far too long.

Tears poured from the twins' eyes, falling upon their mother's dress, wetting the fabric; Andy hugged her own arms around her stomach at the melancholy sight of seeing such mother/daughter happiness. She'd longed for such a relationship and to see this particular one reunited made her both extremely happy and yet slightly sad for her own lost childhood.

When Miranda finally let the twins go, Andy noticed her own cheeks were wet with tears. It was the most endearing that she had ever seen Miranda and she rushed forward to be at the woman's side. Miranda squeezed her hand and smiled softly. Then they were back to the horses.

For an instant, Andy didn't know how they were going to transport the twins but was quickly surprised when Miranda helped them to side saddle the mare with Cassidy taking the reins into her hands. Miranda then ascended the stallion behind Andy and hooked her arms around Andy's waist.

It all passed so quickly that Andy had hardly any time to think. By the time they'd arrived back at the caravan, there wasn't time to hide the twins. They had to get to the show to throw Gershin off and make it seem as though whatever he'd thought their plans were, that it was not the case. So both girls were set up in the caravan and Miranda kissed their cheeks and told them that she would be back as soon as she could. They had been concealed beneath a blanket covering one of the corner tables in case anyone forced entry but with any luck, Miranda would sneak away right after the performance and transport them to a safer hiding area.

Andy's heart pounded quickly from the moment she said her opening line to the crowd on the midway, urging them in to see the show. It was after all the final performance for the town and Andy's own determination came from selfish reasons. She wanted to pack as many people into the tent that could fit, so that Miranda could slip away unnoticed.

Her bally worked and even Gershin gave her an oddly surprised look at the mass amounts of people that were flooding through the gates. She'd promised everything but fire-breathing dragons to the crowd and had them so riled up that there was almost a riot getting them through into the tent. Finally, when it was at maximum capacity, Andy followed the crowd inside and shut the tent flaps behind them.

Hattie stepped up to the center stage and began to welcome the crowd as the show started, causing Andy to scan the sea of heads for Gershin. He usually did the inside-talking, although Hattie picked up the duty occasionally. But it was odd, especially on a night where he would be seen by hundreds of people, that he was absent. Andy's heart sank when her search came up fruitless. She looked to Miranda who was standing on the stage and noticed that Miranda had been doing the very same as her. Their eyes met and Miranda's chin moved almost imperceptibly into a nod.

Andy nodded back and within seconds she was out of the hot, noisy show tent, and off to the caravan at full speed.

Her chest constricted painfully under the tight laces of her corset and the bruises scattering her body. The past few days had pushed her to the point of exhaustion and, as she jumped over a large branch on the outskirts of the forest, she wondered how she'd managed to stave off collapsing.

Her lungs burned hot in her chest as she pushed herself to the caravan. She prayed to whatever spiritual being existed for the twins to be there alone. She furiously prayed to beat Gershin to the wagon, prayed that he hadn't gone there after all, prayed that she could reach the girls and remove them to a safer place.

She cursed Coxwold and Thickett for their thick, rotted brains. They'd planned on getting the twins into a rented room for several days, supplying them with enough food to last them until they'd worked out a suitable plan. There'd been plenty of money left from Andy's thievery and, combined with her and Miranda's saved wages, they'd have been set.

But they'd lost the chance, were robbed of the extra time, and Andy only wished with every fiber of her being that it wasn't too late.

The caravan was in sight and she pushed herself harder, noting that nothing in the area seemed disturbed. She felt relief but quickly pushed it aside, believing in an instant that things were not always what they seemed.

Trouble lurking in the shadows…

She burst into the door. Nothing was out of place and as she stepped closer to the area where the girls had been hidden, she tremulously called their names. There was no response.

Extending a hand, she lifted the corner of the blanket.

"No!"

She felt light-headed with worry as she scanned the empty caravan. Gershin had come. Gershin had found them. Where would he go, especially in the middle of the show? She knew her only chance would be to go to his personal caravan and start there. She'd check every caravan if she had to.

As she headed for the door, she stopped. She stared at herself in the looking glass over the shelf. She barely recognized the reflection of the bruised and determined woman in front of her. Young, innocent Andy was gone. In her stead was a woman whose heart beat stronger and faster than ever before, preparing herself for the battle that was to be fought.

She snatched at one of Miranda's shawls, coiling it around her fist before she punched the mirror, the glass shattering to the top of the shelf and floor. She discarded the shawl and picked up a long, jagged piece of the broken glass.

She would be prepared for Gershin this time.

She would fight back.

\---

The crowd in the show tent was loud and boisterous, letting their vast approval be known. Andy scanned the empty lot, her eyes pausing on the dark, quiet wagon of Gershin's.

Clutching the glass tightly in her fist, Andy prepared to enter the caravan for the second time that day. She pushed the door open, her eyes adjusting to peer through the shadows. She could see nothing.

"Where are you, you piece of shit?" Andy muttered under her breath.

The door was kicked shut behind her and she spun on her heel, her eyes widening as Gershin lunged for her. "Right here!"

She swiped at him with the glass, slicing his upper arm. His angry cry of pain was the last thing she heard before his fist collided with her skull and blackness descended.

\---

When Andy came to she was sitting, her neck screaming from having hung forward in her unconsciousness. When she tried to rub it she found that her wrists were restrained in her lap by a thick rope. Then she felt a heat against her back, warming her through the thin material of her gown and she craned her neck to discover what or who was behind her. The pale neck and silvery white hair gave away who it was instantly. "Miranda," Andy moaned weakly, pushing back against the older woman.

Miranda turned her head towards her, their noses almost brushing as they strained to see one another. "Andrea, are you hurt badly?"

Andy shook her head, her scalp rubbing against Miranda's as she did so. "No, I'll be fine, what... what happened?"

"Ahhhhh - she's awake!" Gershin's booming voice thundered in the empty tent and a match flickered and dropped into a lantern, illuminating the stage.

Andy squinted, as did Miranda, as their heads turned sideways, looking towards the raised piece of rotten wood upon the stage that acted as a makeshift backdrop to the twins who were tied tightly to the plank. Miranda's gasp was felt down the entire length of Andy's spine and she wanted to reach out and hold the woman's hand. Her fingers wriggled and fought the restraints but to no avail.

"To the gypsy whore and the fool we welcome you to the Sachs of Spades Sideshow, after dark special!" Gershin grinned manically and stepped over to the twins who struggled against restraints of their own. "Tonight, we are going to teach these ungrateful wenches what bad behaviour and disrespect will get them. Tonight, for one performance only, we will correct nature's mistake!"

Andy's brow furrowed as she saw Hattie step out from behind the platform carrying a large blade. It looked like one of Doug's swallowing swords and Andy felt her heart sink to the bottom of her stomach. "Miranda..." she whispered and felt Miranda respond by pushing her lower back into Andy's.

"Tonight, we separate good from evil and cure one of Satan's creations. Watch as we turn this two-headed spawn of the devil into two separate people! We lead God's forsaken children back to the light!"

"Gershin! No! Don't do this!"

"There'll be time for commentary after the show. For now, shut your trap and feast your eyes on the spectacle before you!"

Andy could feel Miranda wrestling with her bindings, which only tightened the ropes against her own body. She winced and felt tears welling within her eyes. This couldn't be happening…

But it was. The polished blade caught the flickering orange light of the lantern. Andy heard a sob coming from the twins. She couldn't make out which of the two were crying, but she suspected that they were both overcome with fear.

"You've gone mad!" Miranda shouted. Andy's eyes widened, not sure that she'd ever heard Miranda raise her voice before.

"Sticks and stones, hag. It's time that we all remember who's in charge. I'm in control of this show. I'm in control of you. I own all of you disgusting creatures. I pulled you out of the gutters and what thanks have I gotten in return? Nil. You should all be eating out of my palm and you're all a bunch of ungrateful warts." Gershin had lowered the sword, turning his back to the twins to deliver his speech. His features were disfigured with madness, his lips recoiled in a sneer.

Andy desperately clung to the hope that she could keep him distracted long enough to work out a way out of there. "Gershin…papa…please. Think about what you're doing. They're just little girls. If you try to separate them, you'll kill them. You don't want that blood on your hands. You're a good man, papa. The authorities…they'll take you away. We need you here."

Gershin threw back his head and laughed, joined in by his wife. "That's a good one," Gershin replied, slapping his thigh with his free hand. "Papa. What a lark!"

"You're worse than the rest of them," Hattie spat. "You had a perfect life handed to you on a silver platter and what'd you do? Pissed on it, that's what you did. Never gave a word of thanks for what we've done for you over the years."

Andy turned her attention to her mother, the pain in her chest growing stronger with each venomous word aimed violently in her direction.

"You have been the bane of my existence, girl, since the minute you were born," Hattie continued, crossing to stand tall at Gershin's side. "You contorted my body when I carried you, leaving me with a lump of ugly fat when you were through. I was never able to get back into my show costumes after you'd had your disgusting turn in my stomach. Then, there you were - ugly in my arms, red and crying... always crying. Keeping me up so that I had bags under my eyes, suckling at my breast, feeding off of me until I was dry, then retching what you'd taken, all over my clothes."

Andy's eyes were wide as she listened, a lump forcing its way down her throat.

"Then, you grew and expected me to care for you every waking minute of the day. Where was the time for me, huh? Where was the time for my singing, my dancing, my nights on the stage? No... it was all given to you so that you'd have someone to care for you. Care for you!" Hattie snorted with laughter, "Care for the daughter who never gave a wit for the sideshow life. A girl with not an ounce of talent in her body, whose only purpose was to look pretty and get ticket sales. A job you took from ME! Snatched out from under me after you ruined my life. There was no place for me once my beauty had gone. I wasn't beautiful and I wasn't a freak." She snatched at her hands and pulled off the thin webs that had once fused her fingers together.

Andy gasped. Hattie wiggled her fingers. "Had to resort to something, didn't I? Some gimmick to be a draw. Had to reduce myself to the level of those worthless, deformed creatures. You've had this coming, girl," she spat, stalking forward and splaying two fingers towards Andy and Miranda. "If you two sinners want to give yourselves over to the devil -- so be it. But we will right one wrong tonight and make sure that you have no hope in hell of making any more money off of us."

Gershin cackled beside his wife, his fingers coiling around the length of his beard. He tugged and it extracted from his chin with ease. "Finest goat's hair there is," he said with a laugh. "Must be something pure about me that my body wouldn't allow a single hair to grow on my chin! Must be some aversion to freaks like you!"

Hattie laughed and clapped her hands together.

Andy stared in horror. These people…these twisted, ugly people…they'd given her life.

Fate was cruel. Biology was crueller.

"Let me attempt to understand the workings of your feeble minds," Miranda began, and the couple on the stage quieted their laughter as they begrudgingly listened to the gypsy's words. "You've feigned your own gifts and profited off the gifts of others for the sake of money. You have no respect for us, no respect for your own child, and your backwards way of thinking has brought you here?"

"Gifts," Hattie snorted. "You call them gifts, we call them money makers. People don't come to these shows to stare in wonder at your so-called gifts. They come 'cause you're disgusting, you're different. They come to gawk and for as long as the crowds are curious, we'll reap the benefits."

"I don't think you'll be benefiting for much longer," came a voice from the back of the tent. All eyes swivelled in its direction.

From the back of the tent a figure emerged from the shadows and when he stepped into the light of the hanging lanterns, the tattooed man was revealed. Nigel steepled his fingers as he walked, smiling gently at Andy and Miranda as he approached the stage. Hattie and Gershin narrowed their eyes in unison. "What are you doing here? I told you to keep the freaks back at the camp."

Nigel continued to walk, his fashionable leather shoes digging into the dirt as he grew closer, his eyes levelled upon the Sachses. "That you did. But you see, there weren't any freaks at the camp to keep back, I'm afraid."

Hattie laughed nervously and Gershin stepped forward, stretching the sword in his hand towards the tattooed performer. "Don't play with me, Nigel. Don't you dare get on my bad side and join the likes of those two whores."

"On the contrary, Mr. Sachs. You'll find that I am not playing a game with you, but merely educating you on the facts."

Andy watched as the tent flap leading to the blow-off room opened behind Gershin and another figure stepped on to stage. Gershin heard the thundering foot steps behind him and saw that Mammoth Martha had squeezed onto the stage and was watching him over the thick pouch of skin that clung to her throat.

His hand tightened on the sword's handle.

Nigel went on, his tone even and slow, his brows angled in gentle reason, "The definition of 'freak' is a thing or occurrence that is markedly unusual or irregular. It is a monstrosity. And Mr. and Mrs. Sachs, I do so hate to be the one to inform you, but it is not the performers of the Sachs of Spades sideshow that fit this definition, but rather its proprietors."

Hattie started to laugh but the sound was cut off by a tear in the tent on the opposing side of the stage as Irv ripped the striped material just enough to step inside.

Andy turned her head to the back of the tent when she saw Gershin's and Hattie's eyes flick in that direction and could see the bearded lady, the wolf boy, snake charmer, the contortionist, and finally the sword swallower as they all moved up the darkened walls of the tent towards the stage.

Andy could feel Miranda's breath quickening at the scene that was playing out around them though Andy knew that her eyes had not left her daughters since the experience began.

"Reinforcements," Andy whispered and felt Miranda relax, just slightly, against her.

"You see, Mr. and Mrs. Sachs," Nigel continued, taking up a sword that was propped beside the stage, "We've decided that there needs to be a change. It no longer suits us to be objectified by a pair of simpering, intolerant gaffs."

Nigel nodded at Irv who, taking Gershin by surprise, apprehended the sword. With one swift swipe he sliced at the twins' bonds, freeing them. He escorted them from the stage and, when they had safely bypassed Gershin and Hattie, Nigel cut the ropes holding Andy and Miranda captive.

"Get them out of here," Nigel said, looking between Andy and Miranda.

Miranda nodded. She kissed Caroline and Cassidy on their cheeks, shot a withering stare to the Sachses, and fled the tent. Andy remained rooted to the spot, unable to move. She stretched her aching limbs and looked around her. Each of her friends was now wielding a weapon. Doug and Lily each had one of his swords. Nate's hand gripped around his penknife. Emily and Serena each brandished kitchen knives, while Martha had picked up another stray sword.

The members of the Sachs family were now the only ones left without a weapon.

Andy swallowed.

"We have suffered too long under your tyranny," Nigel said. "We have watched you abuse us and your own child for far too long. We've been kind in allowing you such a reprieve. Too kind, I'm afraid."

"You can't do this!" Hattie shouted, clinging to her husband.

"I think you'll find that we can, and we will. Andy, I suggest you leave now."

Andy stared at Nigel, her body shaking uncontrollably. He nodded sadly and motioned for the back of the tent. Andy looked back at her parents.

No, she realized, not parents.

Cassidy and Caroline had a parent. They had a mother that loved them and that would do anything in the world for them. Against all odds, they were a family again, reunited by their love for one another and their belief in fighting for what they believed in.

Andy was not looking at parents. Andy was looking at a woman and a man. Perhaps she'd been born of their combined bodies, perhaps she'd even spent her years in their company. But they were not parents. They were an evil woman, an evil man and Andy knew that inside their chests beat hearts as black as coal.

Suddenly it occurred to her. A flash of memory to the card that had led her to Miranda.

It had been the Eight of Swords. The face had held a woman, surrounded by a fortress of eight shimmering swords, without escape, bound by ropes and looking desperately for a way out. When she had seen that card she had felt sorry for the girl inside. She'd felt sorry for her situation, for a life bound by forces beyond her control. But suddenly, as if a light had been turned on within her, the card's meaning had changed.

As she gathered the rope that had been cut from her waist and tossed it aside, she could see the eight swords. She could see them in the eight figures approaching Hattie and Gershin, encircling them like a pack of wolves on putrid prey. The woman on that card was not trapped at all. The swords weren't restraining her, they were protecting her just as her friends protected her now. Gone were the ties that bound and there before her was the figurative golden chariot waiting to set her free.

Andy smiled softly at Nigel and turned slowly. As she closed the flap of the tent and crossed towards the forest she could hear the clash of swords and the screams of Hattie and Gershin as they stepped down to meet their maker. To her utter surprise, the smile on her lips remained as she let the last of the ropes fall literally from her wrists and metaphorically from her soul.

\---

Andy opened the door of the caravan, pausing to watch as Miranda doted upon the twins as they lay in the narrow bed. She covered them, kissed their foreheads, and smiled. Her face was so serenely angelic that Andy's heart clenched. She felt like an intruder.

"Goodnight, my loves," Miranda said, tucking the blanket around their necks. The twins echoed sleepy goodnights.

Miranda's relieved smile greeted Andy when she spun to face the door. "Let's walk," Miranda suggested.

Out under the moonlight, Miranda took Andy's hand. "I've…you…" She exhaled and frowned, her mouth pursed as if trying to locate the correct words. "What you've done for me…"

"Shh. You don't have to say anything."

"No, I need to say this, Andrea. What you've done for me is unlike anything that I've ever experienced. I've never encountered such kindness manifested in one soul. Why you chose me I'll never know…"

"I don't think I had much of a choice," Andy grinned, taking Miranda's hands in her own. "I think we were just sort of…meant to be." Andy laughed. "Wow. That's the corniest thing I've ever said."

"It's not entirely inaccurate," Miranda said softly. "You were in my cards."

Andy blushed. "Really? What'd it say?"

"I can't disclose that, but you were there. You were there for years and I never believed it."

Andy smiled and studied Miranda under the silvery glow of the moon. She looked more youthful than ever. She felt her heart stir within her chest and she knew she'd never be able to recreate this beauty or this happiness again.

"We'll leave tomorrow," Miranda added after several moments of silence. "In the morning."

"What? Why so soon?"

"You've enough to deal with here. I don't know what they plan to do with the bodies, but it's best that I get the girls out of here. I don't want them exposed to this world anymore. It's time that we make a go of living like a normal family. No more cages."

"You could stay, you know…you wouldn't have to be in the show. I mean…assuming there is a show."

"There will be. The Sachs of Spades belongs to you now."

"I…I hadn't thought of that."

"You have a great deal to think about," Miranda said. "Many choices lay ahead of you now."

Andy sighed. Suddenly her freedom seemed waning. The idea of Miranda leaving, after having only just found her…

It was worse than any of Gershin's beatings.

"Can't you just read my cards and tell me what to do?"

Miranda shook her head. "This is one journey you have to take on your own. We'll start that journey tomorrow. For now, let's sleep."

Andy nodded, and turned to face Miranda. They were at the edge of the forest between Miranda's caravan and the rest of the camp.

"There isn't any room in there tonight for me; I better sleep in my own bed," Andy admitted half-heartedly and   
Miranda's lips turned into a soft smile. "It is best I think. Your decisions for the future must not be clouded by distractions of the present."

"I'd hardly call you a mere distraction, Miranda."

"Maybe so," Miranda spoke softly, her eyes flicking back and forth between Andy's. "But your decision has to be for yourself alone. You are a grown woman and you are free. There is so much you have yet to experience, and so much you must discover on your own."

Andy's eyes welled up with unshed tears. "I know, I just... Miranda, I ..." love you. The words were there on her tongue but silenced by Miranda's lips as they pressed against hers in a delicate kiss.

"You will make your decision for you, Andrea, without regret." Miranda stepped back and squeezed Andy's hands once more before turning around and disappearing under the forest's veil. Andy watched her go until she could no longer hear footsteps against crackling twigs and rustling bushes. Then, with a heavy heart, she turned back towards the camp and made her way towards her caravan.

\---

When she awoke hours later, greeted by the rays of sun signalling the start of a new day, she knew before rising that the forest was vacant.

She knew that the caravan and all three women inside would be gone.

Andy moved to get up when she saw a card on the small table beside her bed. It was turned towards her and she lifted it into her hands, laying back on the bed. She studied its face. Temperance was written upon it in bold print beneath an angel in flight. As she turned it over in her hands she noticed black ink, marring the pattern.

Written upon it in feminine scroll was a message.

Live through darkness, appreciate the dawn. ~M

Burrowing her face into the pillow, the card grasped between trembling fingers, she wept.

\---

Epilogue

\---

"Almost finished," Andy said, fastening a bright blue bow around the shiny black hair of the six-year-old girl in her lap. "There. Are you ready to see?"

The girl nodded enthusiastically.

Andy held up a small mirror. "Look at how beautiful you are, Keiko!"

The girl clapped and let out a squeal of delight. She turned her head this way and that, feasting her wide, almond-shaped brown eyes upon the ringlets of curls in her hair. Andy studied the girl's face in the reflection of the mirror, trying not to fixate her eyes upon the gap above her mouth. The roof of her mouth, the top of her jaw, and her lip were separated by a deep cleft, leaving her beautiful smile broken. She hugged Keiko tight.

Keiko squirmed impatiently and she hopped off Andy's knee. Giving Andy a hug, the girl ran off in the direction of Lily's caravan.

She sighed and picked up her mirror, making her way back to the main caravan. She surveyed the lot around her, unable to believe that after three short months, she'd managed to transform it into something of a respectable business.

It was more than that.

It was a home.

Nigel was waiting on the step of the caravan. She waved.

"You're quite the dynamic woman, Miss Sachs," Nigel said, scooting aside to allow her to sit beside him. "Sideshow proprietor by day, hair dresser by night."

Andy laughed. "Keiko does love her curls."

"They give her a bit of confidence no doubt."

"Do you think we did the right thing, adopting her from that orphanage and bringing her here?"

Nigel sighed and peered off thoughtfully. "You know, I think we're giving her a chance for a better life. And I commend you for not putting her in the show. Giving her the chance to grow up first, make the choice on her own…" He patted her knee. "You've grown up, Six."

She smiled and rested her head on his shoulder, noticing a small wooden box in his hands. "Whatcha got there?"

"Oh, I bought this off a peddler in town, hocking sideshow merchandise. I thought you might like it." He handed her the box.

She recognized it immediately as a tarot box.

Andy looked to Nigel curiously then opened the wooden latch of the box, peering inside.

Andy's heart skipped a beat as she saw the familiar card staring back at her. It was the woman again, defended by her eight swords. Andy snaked her fingers into the box and pulled it out, glancing down at the familiar face, the card she had memorized months before.

Smiling at Nigel, Andy nodded her head softly and moved to put the card back when she noticed another card tucked neatly behind. She fished it out next and noted that no other cards remained in the box as she studied its face.

It was a simple card. Four wands held up a garland of flowers and in the background, two figures were celebrating. She warmed immediately as she stared at it, wishing that Miranda were there to explain the meaning of the card.

Alas, Miranda was not there, and she gazed as its intricate details, working the meaning out for herself. The people appeared to be rejoicing in a way that was more than just a bout of happiness. They were well and truly celebrating. Perhaps they were celebrating the end of a troublesome time.

She ran the pad of her thumb over the smooth surface of the card and was jostled to notice a perfectly formed tear falling onto the image. 

She could feel Nigel's hand as it made its way comfortingly across her back.

"I miss her, Nigel."

Nigel's voice was soft as he coaxed her into a gentle hug. "I know, sweetheart."

\---

Days later as the show was packing up, Andy found herself utterly distracted. Her mind turned over the two tarot cards that Nigel had found for her, the only two cards in the box. One clearly represented her past, the other...

She put down the crate she was carrying and sighed softly as she looked out over the camp. She could see Nigel in the distance playing with Keiko as she giggled and screamed, chasing him with wiggling fingers. Near the cook house, Nate and Doug sat upon the picnic tables, playing a game of cards with a small stack of coin favouring Doug beside them.

Lily, Emily and Serena were nearby, bringing a platter of food to Martha's caravan and Irv was staring dumbly at the snake slithering around his arm.

They were a family. Against all odds, they were a family.

Everyone had their place in the show and not one person living in the touring show was exploited. The performers were there of their own accord. There were no more traditional blow-offs, no more loosening pockets while the marks gathered around the stage.

It was simply life. And a good life at that.

But something was missing for Andrea Sachs.

Andy shook her head and moved towards her caravan, picking a small fleck of paint off of the outside wall before dragging her feet warily up the steps. It wasn't until she had her hand on the door handle, did she notice the tarot card affixed to the wood of the door by a crystal hair pin.

Andy's mouth edged open and she unpinned the card, taking it into her hands as she had the cards previous to it.

An outstretched hand held out a single cup that was overflowing. She smiled, immediately thinking of Miranda and how easily her fondness for her had spilled over into something akin to love.

No, it wasn't like love.

It was love.

She turned the card in her fingers, her stomach clenching to see the scrawling script on the back.

The caged bird is free. Meet me at the crossroads. Midday. ~M.

She looked around as if expecting to see Miranda crouching behind a tree. She laughed jubilantly to herself. No. Miranda would not be in the camp.

She would be at the crossroads, and that's where Andy would find her.

\---

It didn't take long to tie up the loose ends. It wasn't a hard decision to make. She'd never exactly chosen the life she lead. She'd been born in to it. Nothing had been her direct decision. Nothing until now.

Andy had given the sideshow to Nigel, the one who had been with the show the longest and who had always been a father figure to all of the performers on the lot, herself included. He had graciously accepted, seeming more happy that Andy had made a decision for herself, then for having inherited what was to be his humble fortune.

With only a carpet bag, several tarot cards and tearful goodbyes to her friends, Andrea Sachs made her way down the dirt road, a free woman.

As she walked along the dusty gravel, her mind turned over the events that had led her to where she was. She had come into herself in the course of a few months. She was a woman, free and independent. 

Unlike a house of cards, fragile and desperate, clinging to a structure against even the slightest, changing breeze, she was fortified.

She had the protection in the Eight of Swords. She had opportunity in the Chariot. She had Strength to conquer the world. She had Temperance to see past the darkness towards the light.

And, in the silver haired woman standing before her, caressed by the sun with a smile lighting her face, she had the Ace of Cups: infinite love.

\---  
The End


End file.
